Lest We Forget
by alien09
Summary: I trusted you to keep my baby girl safe. Now I want you to make sure she's safe from you. My salvaging of Season 6 from Chapter 21. Includes Tony DiNozzo/Brennan, eventual BB.
1. Chapter 1

Booth looked through the glass pane separating him from his brother. Jared looked slightly thinner than he usually was and his skin now seemed to be powder white. Of course, the orange jumpsuit he wore wasn't the most flattering colour on anyone.

He had spent his whole life trying to protect Jared. When the old man came back drunk and angry, Booth had made sure he was the one taking the beatings. Jared was his responsibility, his little brother. He didn't deserve the bruises and broken bones. If anyone had to take them, Booth would.

'So how did it feel being rescued by a squid?' Jared cracked. Booth winced and then chuckled and then became serious.

It was his fault Jared was here. If only he had been more careful answering the door. He was a Ranger for chrissake! Since he had left the service, only Ice Pick had been able to get the drop on him.

'It was either that or being blown to pieces. I think somehow I'll get over it,' Booth replied, clutching the plastic phone. 'Look Jared, man, I'm sorry.'

'Why?' Jared looked genuinely confused.

'Because if I hadn't gotten my sorry ass kidnapped, you wouldn't be sitting there in that ugly as suit trying to fight felony charges!'

To his consternation, his brother scoffed. 'You know, Tempe was right. I don't deserve you.'

_Bones had said what?_

'I gotta say, I was surprised when she called me. Last time we were alone together-' Booth cringed at his words, '- she pushed me off a bar stool because I made her think you were a loser.'

'_What_?' Booth gaped, trying to suppress the joy that a mental picture of an irate Brennan pushing Jared off his perch produced.

'Look Seel, there are some things I want to say. First off, I'd hijack a dead body from the FBI again if it meant saving your life. Ever since I can remember, you've had my back. Yeah we've bitched and moaned at each other, but deep down I always knew you'd come through for me. You kept Dad from using me as his punching bag, and I'll never forget that.'

'I didn't do it to use as emotional blackmail Jared.'

'See,' Jared pointed out, a self-deprecating smile on his face. 'There's the difference between you and me. If I'd been kidnapped, you would have snuck in yourself and carried that body out, consequences be damned. Me? I told Tempe I had to make a few calls. She told me I was a selfish coward, and you know what? She was right.'

'Bones has a tendency to be a little…abrupt,' Booth muttered half-heartedly.

'I did the same thing you would have done for me,' Jared told him firmly. 'So get that mopey pathetic look off your face big brother. This isn't your fault. I knew what I was getting into and it was worth it.'

'Doesn't mean it isn't right,' Booth murmured, trying to ignore his brother's words.

'Tempe already got me the best lawyer anyone on planet earth could find. Repaying a debt were her words. She said I could pay her back by trying to, and I quote,' Jared said cheekily, 'assuage some of the inevitable guilt that you will feel as a by-product of your ability to protect and serve as the alpha male of the situation being compromised.' This time, Jared did laugh.

'That sounds about right,' Booth replied. As usual, Brennan was right about what he was feeling. He _did _feel remorseful that his kidnapping had led to this. The Gravedigger had done something far worse than get the drop on him – she had made him feel like a victim.

'But most importantly of all Seeley, I want to apologize about Tempe.'

Booth looked up at Jared's words.

'I knew how you felt about her when I asked her to come with me for that banquet.'

'She's my partner.' The words tasted hollow in Booth's mouth as he recalled what Teddy had said.

_Maybe I'm here so that you can tell someone that you love them._

He could still remember how she had latched onto him when he had come aboard that helicopter. She had hugged his arm tightly to her chest, much to Booth's discomfort and pleasure, and had refused to leave his side unless absolutely necessary. He hadn't discussed much about what had happened to him down there, only that a ghost had helped him. Brennan had played along with him, though Booth could plainly see the skepticism on her face, but had yet to offer anything about her time spent buried alive.

They had never really talked about her experience, he mused. In the aftermath, he could see that she was having trouble sleeping. Enclosed spaces made her fidget restlessly and he hadn't commented when she had politely declined to ride in his car a few days after the incident. Booth also hadn't said anything when she had foregone driving to work.

The first time he had been back to the Jeffersonian after he had been discharged from the hospital, Hodgins had drew him aside and told him to expect nightmares like Dr Brennan and him. Booth remembered feeling slightly betrayed that she had shared something so important with Hodgins of all people, but had quietly nodded when the entomologist had haltingly offered a ear if he needed it.

'When Tempe came into that bar to tell me you were kidnapped, she wasn't rational or calm. Her eyes were bloodshot, there were bags under her eyes and she was practically begging. Yeah, I risked my job, but so did she. She didn't sleep much, didn't eat much. When she found out we knew where you were, it was like this light had come back on.' Jared leveled a look at Booth, whose fingers had curled into his palm. 'That doesn't sound like someone whose just a partner.'

'When I was on that ship, I saw Teddy.'

Surprise registered on Jared's face. 'As in Parker?'

Booth nodded. His brother knew a little of what had happened, enough to understand the boy's significance to Booth's life.

'He told me to pass a message to Claire, tell her he loved her. And I asked him what was so hard about telling someone you love them. Just say those three little words to their face. Like it was _easy_.'

Jared remained quiet until the end. 'You're afraid she'll be another Rebecca.'

Yes, only if Brennan said the same thing, it would literally kill him. When Rebecca had refused his proposal, told him that she wasn't one of those girls, he had felt the world fall away from him. But hearing those same words – like he half expected any declaration of the same sort to her anyways – coming from Brennan herself would cause what semblance of happiness and sanity he had to implode.

She was the thread holding everything together for him. Work, play, business, pleasure – in his mind, they all led back to her. Even his son adored her, and when he saw the way she would smile down at him and run her fingers through Parker's soft hair, he could feel his heart ache so bad because he wanted _this _to be his everyday.

'She's not, you know?' Jared remarked shrewdly. 'Deep down inside, you know that too. Hell, sounds like even Teddy knew it.' Booth noticed his brother failed to remark about the improbability of Teddy being in that ship with him, or the fact that Booth himself might be loosing his mind.

'Say those three little words,' Booth repeated the words acerbically, shaking his head.

'Just…just think about it, would you? You deserve to be happy big brother, after all the shit life's put you through.'

The guard's voice rang through the small room, saying they had a few minutes left.

'We get to go out in the yard today. Don't know how he got it, but some guy down in cell block four's got a pretty decent single malt scotch to lose.'

Something twisted inside Booth's stomach. 'Jay Jay-'

His brother waved away the childhood nickname. 'Relax Seel. I'll survive. Just keep sending me care packages and visit, would you?'

'You'll beat this, okay?'

'Teflon baby,' Jared tried to joke, but the smile didn't really reach his eyes.

Time was up.

'I'll be by the next time,' Booth said thickly.

'Looking forward to it.' Jared's voice was equally as thick as he swallowed. Abruptly he hung up the phone and got to his feet. Booth watched as the manacles around his wrists dropped nosily to the ground.

He met his brother's eyes and then looked on as he shuffled his feet with the rest of the prisoners.

Booth gently placed the phone back on the cradle.

His eyes burned.


	2. Chapter 2

The black dress she had worn that night was laid out on her bed. The gem stones affixed to the front caught the light and glimmered slightly. The trench she had opted to keep on was tossed haphazardly on the floor. The diamond earrings were in her palm, twinkling as she rocked them back and forth.

Temperance Brennan prided herself on the ability to detach herself from any situation. When she found out her mother was dead, when Russ and her Dad had driven away, when Booth had died – it had been easy to just box away everything and latch on to the scientist within her. Science was clinical, where solid facts led to solid conclusions. Piecing together a fragmented skull was akin to finishing a large jigsaw puzzle. It left her feeling satisfied, as if she had accomplished something.

But, she mused, there was something to be said to giving in to emotion.

Slowly, she balled her fist, feeling the backs of the earrings digging into her hand.

_Booth had almost died. Booth had almost died. Booth was dead. Booth came back. Booth almost died._

Brennan's thoughts were unusually disjointed. She recalled calling for Booth, grasping onto him as he finally boarded the chopper. Folding her arms around him, pressing his arm to her when they disentangled themselves, she couldn't help feeling like a missing part of her was filled again. Not all the way, but just enough to give her some peace of mind.

Her heart had both filled with joy and been torn in two. Booth was whole, relatively unscathed. His white dress shirt had streaks of rust and his hair and face were caked in ash and smoke. The cocky belt buckle he wore around like a totem was gone. His normally immaculate dress shoes were scuffed and scratched beyond repair. But it had been the lost look on his face that had caught Brennan's eye. So used to seeing Booth confident, the lines of despair, anguish and fatigue lining his face had scared her more than anything.

Brennan had hated herself when Cam had told her Jared was in custody at Fort Leavenworth. So far, his CO hadn't requested a court martial but he was still being remanded in any case for aiding and abetting. She had hated herself even more when she told Booth and saw him close his eyes and draw in a deep, long sigh. He hadn't said anything to her, simply nodded and told her that he would see her later.

_I put his brother behind bars like I put my own father._

She hadn't seen Booth for twenty four hours, seventeen minutes and eight seconds. Cam had given them all a week off, despite Brennan's protestations. Her keycard and passwords had all been deactivated when she had gone in to the Jeffersonian yesterday. While she knew Cam was trying to give them time and space to deal with what happened, especially since Brennan had dislocated the Gravedigger's jaw with the briefcase, she needed to focus on _something _other than what had happened to Booth. And also what had happened to her.

Since Booth was taken, the old nightmares and phobias had resurfaced. Even knowing that the Gravedigger was no longer a threat, she would still wake up at night in a cold sweat, feeling the cattle prod at her neck and the enclosed space of her car slowly inching towards her until there was no room left. Each time she had been in a vehicle of some sort, her palms would start to sweat and she swore she could hear her heart rate accelerate. It was nerve-wracking and degrading, not only because she had suffered much worse, but also because _she _had managed to make it out alive. _She _had done what no other victim of that sick, twisted woman had – she had escaped.

_Victim_. Brennan cringed.

_I lost him again._

She saw herself throw the earrings across the room. Watched helplessly as she stomped violently on the trench, pounding with her feet until the buckle cracked. Looked on as her hands tore at the designer couture dress Angela had selected for her.

Brennan was aware of sharp, harsh sobs and a low keening reverberating around the room. Who was that, she wondered. It sounded like that person was in pain, a deep soul-twisting ache that needed to be let out.

Oh god. That was _her_.

The jagged pieces of material she had in her grasp fluttered to the carpet. Brennan surveyed the damage she had done, wondering when the scientist in her had finally ceded control to her more crude and reactive part. Was it when she had cried herself to sleep every night for the two weeks she thought her partner was dead? Was it when Zack had confessed? Was it when she found herself aware of Agent Perotta's interest in Booth? Was it when she thought, however briefly, that Booth was finally, _finally_, lost to her again?

Sinking to the floor, Brennan cradled her head in her hands. Her cheeks were sticky and her nose felt clogged. Threading her fingers through her hair, she pulled tightly. Distantly, she noted the dull throb emanating from her skull.

_You want to get inside his head. Be one with Agent Booth._

Dr Wyatt's words echoed back towards her. When had Booth become such an integral part of her life?

_It's time to catch up to your own reality Sweetie._

_I want you to kiss Booth. Five steamboats. Why? Because I'm feeling puckish._

_Do you think I'm a loser Bones? Is that it?_

Her chest cracked from the pressure as her breath hitched and her mouth sucked in drafts of air. She didn't deserve Booth. He had done so much for her that it was almost impossible to quantify. A shoulder to lean on, an ear, a sounding board – her best friend. And how had she repaid him? By succumbing to Jared's stories and discarding years of evidence to substantiate what she already knew.

Seeley Booth was too good for a product of the foster system, the offspring of a pair of bank robbers, a socially awkward forensic anthropologist who would never fit into the world around her.

Brennan cast her eyes to the ceiling, watching the fan spin around. _Whump, whump, whump. _The blades rotated steadily, adding to the coolness that came with a Washington night.

She walked to the kitchen and crouched down to grab a bin liner from under the sink. Her footsteps were unnaturally loud as she made her way back towards her room. Methodically, pretending this was a skeleton from Limbo, Brennan picked up the remnants of her cocktail dress, the trench. Putting the garbage bag down at her feet, she got on her knees and crawled until she spotted one of the diamond earrings under her bedside table.

The other one was ruined. The black pitted indentations stood in stark contrast to the ones filled with the sparkling rocks.

It didn't matter. She was just as disfigured anyway.

Pulling the garbage bag, she dropped both earrings in. Stared. It was as if she had come full circle, to the times when all that she owned could fit into this bag. Rubbish, waste to dispose of. Brennan had felt hopeless and alone then. She felt the same now.

Brennan hated the tears that rose unbidden to her eyes. God, she hated crying.

'Alright Bren, when did you start hiding your spare key under a rock? Considering you don't have a garden, it's pretty obvious where you-'

_Angela's your friend. _

'Oh _Sweetie_.'

Warm and comforting hands looped around her as the garbage bag she had clasped tightly to her fell loose from her fingers.

'Just let it all out. I'm not going anywhere.'

_It's okay to let her see you like this._

Brennan cried.


	3. Chapter 3

Booth had been so caught up with Jared and what had happened with Teddy that he almost failed to notice what had happened.

It had started out subtly, he mused. While Brennan was still hesitant to leave his side, he noticed that she was more closed off. At the diner, she would engage fully if they were discussing a case, but when he tried to turn towards more personal matters, she would delicately try to change the subject. While she was more than happy to hear about Parker or Rebecca, Booth noted that anything related to her in particular was off limits.

He had chalked it up to it being one hell of a week. He had been the same way after they had pulled Hodgins and her out of the sand. Booth thought that this was just a way for her to process everything that had happened since he had been taken.

He also noticed that whenever Agent Perotta was with them, Brennan made no effort to assimilate herself into the conversation. Where before she had been extremely resentful of anyone, particularly women, interfering with their dynamic, now she would simply excuse herself politely and leave. Her eyes would always look sad, but whenever Booth tried to broach the subject she would insist that he was being paranoid.

It was as if she had lost control and reverted to a form of passivity. And it was starting to scare him since the Temperance Brennan he knew had never backed down from a fight.

The object of his thoughts was currently bent over a pile of bones on the forensic platform, her back to him. He remembered before how they would both almost make it a point to subconsciously place the other within their line of sight. Now, it looked as if Brennan's gesture was pointed.

The hand on his bicep drew him out of his thoughts.

'Agent Booth?' Perotta asked, her blonde hair failing over her shoulders as she regarded him. Was it his imagination or was the female agent attempting to be flirtatious? Shifting his body casually so that her arm fell back to her side, Booth gave her a half-grin.

'Just have Charlie pick up the papers you want me to sign. I'll get them back to you by today.' Maybe he had come off as too dismissive because he saw Perotta's mouth falter slightly. Something akin to professionalism swept across her face again as she bid him goodbye.

'My my. Looks like someone wants a special order of the Booth special.'

Booth knew that coy, innuendo-laden voice anywhere. 'Hey Ange. Haven't seen you around lately.'

The forensic artist shrugged her shoulders. 'Well, right back atcha handsome.' Angela raised an eyebrow. 'Anything you want to talk about?'

Booth fingered his lucky poker chip, seeing that Brennan still hadn't turned around to face him. He knew she knew he was there, the way he did whenever she was within a ten metre radius of him. Finally sighing, and seeing the sympathetic look Angela was shooting him, Booth decided to risk it.

_Because no way in hell am I letting Sweets anywhere near this._

'It's that obvious, huh?'

'How Bren's been shut up tighter than Fort Knox? It's pretty hard to miss.'

Angela beckoned him towards her office, and Booth gratefully flopped down onto one of her plush chairs before speaking.

'It's like she's been avoiding me. She's still there in front of me, but at the same time she may as well be from a different planet.'

Through the glass, Booth saw Wendell hand something to Brennan, who gave the intern a muted nod in return.

Angela sighed, and Booth thought she looked defeated and slightly pained. Her eyes cut between him and her best friend before she leaned forward, her voice a decibel above a whisper.

'Whatever I'm about to say stays between us, alright? If you breathe one word that I ever told you this, well, I work somewhere where we can literally get away with murder.'

Booth nodded, not only because he already knew she would say it, but also because it was killing him inside trying to figure out what had gone wrong. Brennan had been happy when she had hugged him up on the chopper. Smiled and joked when they had gone to pay their respects at Teddy's grave. Then she had slipped away bit by bit.

'The day you went to see Jared, I stopped by her place later that night. I…' Angela trailed off and Booth saw her swallow. 'God Booth, she was sitting there on the floor and _sobbing_.'

Something inside him squeezed.

'She was…Bones' cried?'

Angela leveled him with a shrewd look, as if he was an idiot.

'When they told us you flat lined on the table after you got shot, Bren lost it. She was screaming and yelling and demanding that she see your body. They wouldn't let her. So she did what she always does – she came back to work. Only this time, it was ridiculous. She never left the lab and when she did, she always went back to your place.'

Booth blinked.

'Then you came back. Yeah she said she compartmentalized and she was so glad to have you there in front of her, but Booth, I don't think you understand how much you hurt her.'

'She was on the list,' Booth muttered weakly.

'You're the last person she'd expect to leave her and when you supposedly died, you _did_. She's been making a conscious effort to get past that and from the outside; you both looked like you've reached that crazy sense of normalcy you both used to have.'

'She told me I should have told her personally.'

'Sweetie, I'm not blaming you here. This is just how Bren works. She figures you're too important for her to just give up on.'

Booth looked up at Angela.

'Then Jared came, swept in with that fantastic uniform and tried to make his big brother look bad. And because she's still trying to recover, she believes what Jared tells her and begins to question the man she's known for so long.'

'I asked her if I was a loser, you know? And all she could do was look at me,' Booth said, voice cracking towards the end. 'But then that speech at the bar and her getting shot…'

'Seeley.' In all the time he had come to know Angela, she had never once used his given name. 'When you were on that ship, she threw everything she had into finding you. Before we knew who the Gravedigger was, she gave up the one piece of evidence that could have helped us identify who the Gravedigger really was. Hodgins and her almost got blown up.'

'What?' Booth whispered as Angela shuddered. Bones hadn't told him that. Then again, she hadn't said much of anything save asking him if he needed more pills or if he was feeling alright.

The artist waved her hand through the air. 'Look, let me break it down for you here handsome.' Angela seemed to consider what she was going to say next, eyeing him intently to see whether he was worthy of whatever she was going to share with him. 'After Jared, Bren thinks she isn't good enough for you.'

'_What_?' This time Booth was incredulous, rising to his feet. 'She thinks she's _what_? That's impossible. Bones…well she's-'

'You don't have to sell me on how great Bren is Booth. Yeah she has her faults, but when she thinks you're worth it, she commits heart and soul.'

'God. How could she even think that?' Booth ran a hand through his hair. Temperance was easily the most beautiful, incredible, wonderful…

'Who knows where thoughts come from Sweetie, they just appear,' Angela said, wrapping her arms around herself.

'I need to talk to her. Explain.'

Booth saw Angela nod her head, face titled towards the forensic platform.

'Just…go easy on her alright?' Angela asked him, chewing her lip. 'She tries to act all tough but she's so…'

'I will,' Booth promised, rubbing his face. He stopped, unsure whether to voice his next thought. _Just say it. _'She really cried?'

'I wouldn't expect any less. After all, despite this dance you both do, you know the reason why.' She raised her eyebrow, mouth twisted expectantly upwards.

Booth scratched at his temple, trying not to read the implication.

'Thanks Ange. This…this means a lot,' he told her earnestly.

'Just go bring Bren back alright?' Angela said, patting him on the arm.

Dipping his head, Booth left, eyes trained on his partner.

_When you get the target in your crosshairs, you go for it. You've got one second to make up your mind. One mistake and you're screwed. Aim and shoot people. Just aim and shoot._


	4. Chapter 4

The moment Brennan had seen Booth come out of Angela's office; she knew she had to hide. It galled her that it had come down to this - that in order to hold on to what semblance of normalcy she had managed to create for herself, she had to avoid the one person in the world that had laid the foundations to make that possible.

Yes, she could see the hurt whenever she would make up some lame excuse to avoid his company. Yes, it hurt even more because she could see that he accepted her half-hearted apologies with a false smile.

It was cowardly but for some reason, deep down inside, she _couldn't _have this conversation with Booth. Having him come back from the dead, Zach, Jared, Booth getting caught by the Gravedigger – it was all too much. Life before Booth had been simple. Work, eat and sleep. Now, it was as if this whole other part of her had come out. The part that she had managed to bury deep inside her the day her parents left. Over the course of their partnership, Booth had made it seem like it was normal for her to trust him so much.

Brennan had pondered this one night. How had this man managed to change the person she had thought was enough? Was this new woman what she wanted? The new Temperance had a family again, had friends that she could depend on, a partner she knew would never abandon her.

But those presumptions had changed when she had felt the blood trickle past her fingers, Booth's eyes slipping out of focus as he lay on the floor. He had died and left her and then, just as she was contemplating whether this new life she had built for herself was worth it, he had come back. Oh Brennan knew that he was genuinely sorry that she wasn't informed despite being on that damn list. Everytime she saw him adjust his shoulder, she would chastise herself for being so selfish.

Seeley Booth had taken a bullet for her and she had gotten distracted by shiny baubles.

So that morning, she had finally screwed up the courage to finally talk. Booth didn't deserve the way she had been treating him. Sure they bantered but this underlying tension always seemed to linger between the both of them, and with each day that passed Brennan realized that she couldn't run from this anymore.

Maybe she wasn't ready for this conversation, but they had to have it.

Then he had opened the door in his boxers and invited her in with a limp. He had asked her to fix his back, looking her in the eye when he had said that he trusted her. And what had she done? She had simply caused Booth more pain by all but rendering him bed-ridden. What was the word Perotta had used? _Aggravating_.

He had trusted her to do something and she had just made it worse. Again. Brennan recognized that this was becoming a recurring pattern in their partnership. Whenever she needed him, Booth had the uncanny ability to come through, saying just the right words and offering her just the right amount of touch.

Brennan had thought that she had reciprocated more than adequately. During the service after the case with the soldier on the grave, when Booth had sat there and told her about his time as a sniper, she had placed her hand over his and he had appeared to draw comfort. All those other times when Booth had leaned on her, Brennan thought that she had done the best she could.

Now, however, she doubted very much that she could do anything at all for Booth.

Which was why when she saw Booth acknowledge Perotta's flirtations, she had stepped aside. Booth deserved someone like Perotta, someone who wasn't such an emotional cripple and who shared the same outlook on marriage and children and religion that he did. Of course, Brennan wasn't sure that Perotta did indeed have those similar beliefs but the female agent was blonde, independent and leggy. Having compared her to both Tessa and Cam, Brennan had decided that this was the kind of woman Booth would be interested in.

Throughout the case about the Excalibur sword, Brennan had tried to get along with Perotta. Just because she had conceded ground to this woman, didn't mean she had to embrace her with open arms. Sometimes she had let herself be catty, and Angela had given her that look where her eyebrow raised and her mouth smirked, as if her best friend understood why Brennan was being so inhospitable towards the other woman.

Only Angela was wrong. She was trying to do what was best for Booth. This time, it didn't matter what she wanted, or thought she could want. This time, it only mattered what Booth wanted.

Brennan had kept in touch with Booth throughout the case, rolling her eyes when Booth had reverted back to his overprotective tendencies when he heard about Sweets and her being run off the road. Her partner's care and concern made her feel worse because she knew she didn't deserve it and Brennan had made it a point to ensure that Booth remained at home and not in the field. She had used his back as an excuse, but the truth was she didn't want to see him with Perotta.

This was one of the times Brennan wished she didn't confuse herself.

Once they had gotten the confession out of the blacksmith – those fantasy enthusiasts had been an interesting subset of society worthy of further anthropological study, Brennan mused, except that most of the men she had encountered at the convention had made her uncomfortable when she noticed their predisposition to gawk at Perotta and her – Brennan had knocked timidly on Booth's door.

The smile on Booth's face when he saw her made her feel slightly better and slightly guilty. He was walking around with less visible pain but Brennan could still see him walk with an awkward gait. When she had requested to see his x-ray, almost hesitantly, Booth had indulged her with a smile. Holding up the film towards the light, Brennan squinted.

'So how was working the case with Perotta? You two get along alright?'

Brennan knew his question was innocuous but her grip on the film still tightened imperceptibly.

'It was fine,' she answered him, shrugging. 'She made sure to include me in all aspects of the investigation.'

'She still should have made sure you weren't alone when that psycho knight tried to-'

'I was with Sweets.'

Booth snorted. 'That's like leaving you with a smurf.'

'You said that before on the phone.'

'Really? Huh,' Booth said, scratching his temple.

'All those men at the convention were extremely chivalrous,' Brennan remarked, trying to break some of the awkward silence that had enveloped them. 'While I understand that they were trying to replicate the mindset from the medieval times they were trying to emulate, it was disconcerting that they kept opening doors and addressing me as milady.'

'Disconcerting? Bones, I do that for you and get the feminist lecture every single time. There's something to be said about rescuing the damsel, you know?'

'Because you like fixing things and being one with the universe?' Brennan asked, still looking at the x-ray. When Booth didn't answer, she turned her head to find him looking at her intently.

'What?' She questioned, self-conscious.

'So what's the verdict?' Booth finally said, gesturing towards the x-ray.

'Well, I believe your doctor misdiagnosed you. It's not a herniated disk but something that a chiropractor-'

Booth stood up, gently removing the film from her hand. 'Who needs a chiropractor when I have you?'

'Booth, the last time I tried to adjust you I aggravated-'

Booth made a sound, waving his hand. He turned his back to her, his head twisting to meet hers. Brennan could feel something inside her twist.

'I trust you alright Bones.'

Those words were her undoing. As he turned his head to face the wall and stood ready for her, pliant, Brennan could feel the tears come to her eyes.

What had she done to deserve him? _Why _did she deserve him?

So she had placed her arms around him and pushed her pelvis against his as they gyrated around. That was when Perotta had walked in, hands folded around a brown paper bag and dressed casually.

'Oh. You said come right in so I thought…' Perotta trailed off, looking at Brennan and Booth.

Booth tensed and Brennan wasn't sure if it was because of the cracking sound her ministrations had produced or because of the blonde's presence.

'I just brought you some chilli. Thought you might be hungry,' Perotta said, placing the brown bag on Booth's counter. Brennan slowly stepped away from Booth, unwilling to see the smile on his face as he thanked the other agent.

'It's okay, I was just leaving,' Brennan said, trying to keep her voice steady.

'Oh that's fine I was just-' Perotta's words made her stomach churn.

'No. You stay. I'm just going to…I need to run some errands.'

'What? Bones-'

'It's fine Booth,' Brennan hoped she sounded reassuring, flashing him a small smile and trying to ignore the confusion on his face as she tugged at her jacket. 'I'll leave you two alone.'

And then she hurriedly pushed past Perotta, not trusting herself to look back at Booth as her feet pounded quickly down the narrow corridor.

If this was what Booth wanted, she would give it to him. No matter how much it hurt.


	5. Chapter 5

'So Agent Booth, how are you?' Sweets asked him, his boyish face politely inquisitive.

'Look Sweets, let's cut the Jedi mind tricks alright? Just sign the form so I can get back to finding out who killed the foaming car salesmen,' Booth replied, sliding his tie between his fingers. The psychiatrist sighed.

'This is routine Agent Booth. And until I see you're handling what happened with the Gravedigger within the parameters I deem satisfactory, these sessions are going to be as much fun for you as it is for me.' Sweets sounded definitive, Booth noticed. Sighing, the federal agent clasped his hands between his knees, leaning forward in his seat with his face titled towards the floor.

'What do you want me to say, huh Sweets?' Booth questioned, trying not to let his frustration show. He knew the kid was just doing his job. Hell, Brennan had had to endure this very same psych eval after her episode. If the person most skeptical about psychology could do it, Booth was sure he could too.

'You tell me Agent Booth.' Booth narrowed his eyes. Sweets had almost sounded snippy there. Pressing his fingers into the skin between his digits, Booth let a moment of silence swell.

_Do I tell him how I still haven't managed to take a shower? All that enclosed space plus the water…Do I tell him how Bones and me haven't had a decent conversation about anything important since I got choppered off that frigate? _

'I'm surviving Sweets. Between Bones and Parker, and all these cases, I've been keeping myself busy. No time to think about anything else but foaming green bones,' Booth told him, a half-smile on his face. The younger man seemed to pick up on something significant on his face. It was the same look Brennan would get whenever she noticed something on the skeleton in front of her. Although the smile on Brennan's face was much more attractive and made him less prone to violence.

'What?' Booth was sure Sweets fed off the annoyance in his tone.

'Dr Brennan came to see me this morning,' Sweets told him. Booth winced, remembering the awkward atmosphere in his office when Perotta had stopped by to hand him a file they were both working on. Brennan's eyes had widened and she had mumbled something about errands. Which was quickly becoming another one of her favourite excuses to make a quick getaway.

'Yeah?'

'You know, Dr Brennan _is _literally the best in her field. Dude, all you have to do is _say _she's going to speak at a conference and the seats sell like pancakes! She's like a rock star in the field!' Sweets must have noticed the irritated look Booth was giving him over his enthusiasm over Brennan's accomplishments.

'It's a point she reminds me of everyday Sweets. What, you wanted to score some free tickets to hear Bones compare FBI agents to monkeys?' Booth inquired bitterly, recalling the lecture she had given early in their partnership when Goodman had been around.

'Interesting,' Sweets murmured. 'Well that makes things a little clearer.'

Booth glared. Sweets cleared his throat, shifting in his armchair.

'Dr Brennan came in to request my advice to help her connect emotionally with people the way you do.'

This floored Booth completely. 'We're talking about the same woman who calls psychology a soft science? _She _came to _you_? _Willingly_?'

'I know right?' Sweets burst out, almost jumping out of his seat. 'She actually called it a scientific inquiry.'

'Bones came to you?' Something swirled around inside Booth, making him feel slightly queasy. Had they really drifted apart so much that she was actually going to _Sweets _about advice without telling him?

'Agent Booth?' Sweets' voice made him blink. 'I can see that this comes as a surprise to you.'

Booth blew out a breath, leaning back and letting his head dangle over the top of the sofa. 'Considering the way things are between Bones and me, I'm not really sure.'

_And you said you weren't going to talk to Sweets_, a part of him whispered inside his head.

_Not like you've actually had the balls to confront her Seeley. You just keep watching her close off from you bit by bit like some yellow-bellied rookie who doesn't know the difference between his head and his ass_, a louder voice taunted.

'Dr Brennan has been more…private as of late.' The ways Sweets said it made him lift his head to regard the boy wonder. Apparently noticing the wonder on Booth's face at his accurate assessment, Sweets huffed. 'You know, you people mock me, but I _am _a _qualified professional _in my field who is not only highly regarded-'

'How'd you know?' Booth asked urgently, his mind trying to recall the sessions the two of them had had with Sweets lately.

'It's obvious that there have been certain…incidents recently that have put a strain on your partnership,' Sweets started diplomatically, emitting a sound of defeat. 'While you haven't brushed them off completely, it's clear that in your own way you're utilizing the support base in your life to help deal. Work, your family, friends. Dr Brennan, on the other hand…'

'Sweets,' Booth warned.

'Okay man, I'm only saying this because Angela told me she already spoke to you,' Sweets blurted out. 'Dr Brennan is a patient so confidentiality-'

'_Sweets_.'

'The reason why your partnership is so effective is because you're both complementary. Dr Brennan is rational and clinical and you're,' Sweets said, gesturing towards Booth. 'You're the people person. Evidently Dr Brennan is very…competitive.'

Booth snorted. That was the understatement of the millennium.

'I've got two theories. The first is that, while she sees you as an equal in your relationship, Dr Brennan wants to understand why you're so successful in the interrogation room. Over the past few years, I understand that she's been allowed in as mainly an observer, unless you need her to help explain something scientific.'

Booth nodded. It wasn't that Brennan was necessarily _bad _at connecting, it was that her initial attempts were clumsy. Her abrupt nature often came across as tactless and when you were trying to get a murder suspect to cooperate, the last thing you needed was to piss them off. Noticing Sweets hadn't continued, Booth motioned for him to continue. Seeing the psychologist hesitate, Booth raised an eyebrow.

'I'm only saying this because so far, Dr Brennan has been unresponsive to whatever I've said.'

_No kidding Einstein. Soft science, remember?_

'I believe the reason Dr Brennan came to me,' Sweets said, slowly, as if testing his words before speaking them. 'She's afraid that she's become too emotionally distant from the rest of society. Her ability to compartmentalize is a prime example of the effect of her family's abandonment and her time in foster care. She believes that she isn't good enough to warrant any sort of strong emotional connection, and yet, knowing that you value such a skill, she's attempting in her own way to enable herself to form such affiliations.'

'She's doing this because of _me_?' Booth whispered, incredulous.

'You often tease her about the inadequacy of her knowledge of pop culture and other modern contemporary norms,' Sweets reminded him. 'While she knows on some level that you don't intentionally mean to mock-'

'I don't _mock _Bones, okay Sweets,' Booth shot back harshly, clenching his hands together tightly as if in prayer.

Sweets offered up both hands in surrender. The timer Sweets in his office rang.

'I'll see you next week Agent Booth?' Sweets called out as Booth shot to his feet, wrenching open the door. Booth grunted in reply.

He needed to see Buddy about that Audi.

Booth needed to talk to his partner.

What he really needed, Booth thought pushing a hand through his hair as he jabbed the elevator button viciously, was a stiff drink.


	6. Chapter 6

If there was one thing Brennan was good at, it was being good at something. It didn't matter which county she was in, school became something of a lifeline. Sure, she would admit to not having the most active social life. But when you were shuttled around every few months, friends became the sort of attachments you didn't want to make. It just made leaving harder.

At least, that was what she liked to tell herself.

Angela had been right, Brennan mused, softly trailing her finger down the skinny spine of her wine glass. Booth had made the connection between the shears and Chet's wife in an instant, leaving Brennan to wonder how he did it. What made Booth better at connecting, at simplifying the most complex of human emotions into something with which he could relate to? That was mainly the reason she had gone to Sweets. A part of her, the competitive side that had struggled to prove herself in what was essentially a male-dominated field, _needed _to decipher the technique her partner employed.

Seventy-four interrogations and one failed session with Sweets later, Brennan had had to admit defeat. Interviewing the witness had been both a complete disaster and a testament to her lack of social grace. While she had tried to act confident in her abilities, hearing Booth question her capability had slowly ate away at her inside the room.

'You alright there Bones?'

_I've just discovered I have more in common with the dead. What do you think?_

'You didn't tell me how you thought my interrogation went,' Brennan informed him, glancing at him quickly before staring at the red liquid that still filled more than half her glass. Hearing Booth sigh, Brennan resisted the urge to down the Merlot the bartender had recommended.

'Look Bones…' He trailed off, obviously trying to be diplomatic.

'I was horrible, wasn't I?' Brennan told him, voice soft. 'You were right. I lack empathy.'

'Hey, hey,' Booth demanded. She felt his finger tilt her chin towards him. 'Look at me. I never said that. It's just…you're awkward and unless they know you like I do, it might come across as…tactless.'

Brennan knew he was trying to be nice. But for some reason, his words broke something inside of her.

_Awkward? Tactless?_

Rapidly getting to her feet, Brennan grabbed her coat and briskly walked out, heedless to Booth calling her name. The cold, brisk air was like a slap to the face when she pushed open the door. It was a welcome distraction. At least she knew she could _feel _something.

'Bones! Bones! There you are! What did I say?'

'Nothing,' Brennan responded tightly, refusing to acknowledge the fact that her throat had closed up just a little and that her eyes were burning slightly. When Booth didn't answer, she saw that he was scrutinizing her, his eyes flickering over her face before his mouth settled into a thin line. Gently grasping her by the elbow, he led her towards the bench where they had shared a slice of his birthday cake. Where he had told her about his father.

_You think I'm a loser Bones? Is that it?_

They sat there, side by side, his thigh firmly pressed against hers. Brennan made sure her face was looking the other way.

'We don't talk anymore.'

This drew a confused look from her. 'Haven't we been conversing? Communication is the basis of-'

'I meant that _we _don't _talk _anymore. Sure, Bones, when it's about a case you're all gung ho about it. But when it comes to, you know, personal stuff you just…' Booth trailed off, giving her an expectant look.

'I don't know what that means.'

This time Brennan was sure she saw frustration on Booth's face. 'Ever since I got…' He swallowed. 'Ever since the Gravedigger you've been shutting me out.'

Brennan folded her hands together, twiddling her thumbs.

'And I haven't been pushing because I know you. Anytime you get rushed into something you don't exactly respond well,' he chuckled lightly. 'And then with Perotta-'

The name instantly put Brennan on edge. Just because she knew Booth was attracted to the woman, didn't mean she needed to hear it.

'What about Perotta?' She asked, though her tone still bordered on frosty. 'I've stayed out of the way.'

Booth's brow wrinkled in bewilderment. 'Stayed out of what, exactly?'

He was actually going to make her say it out loud. It wasn't enough that she already knew she didn't deserve him, but now he wanted her to tell him Perotta did?

'It's obvious that Agent Perotta is attracted to you. She's made her intentions clear to me. And since she appears to fulfill the criteria that I've noticed about the women you date, I've ensured that I'm not a hindrance to you reciprocating her interest,' she said, tense and her words stilted. Booth stared at her, long enough to make her wish she had finished her wine. Instead, she got to her feet, brushing off imaginary lint on her coat to look occupied as she made her goodbyes.

'I'll see you tomorrow,' she mumbled, eyes on the pavement. Twisting on her heel, she almost made her escape before Booth grabbed her wrist.

'You think I'm interested in Perotta.' It was worded as a statement, not a question.

'I already explained what I think-'

'Exactly. What _you _think. Did you even bother to ask what _I _think?'

_Why? So you can tell me that you enjoy blondes who can empathize with murder suspects in the interrogation room?_

Brennan let out a weary sigh. 'Booth, it's been a long day. Can we just discuss your love life tomorrow?'

'No.' Booth sounded firm, determined. 'I keep letting you run away. This time, I want you to _stay_.'

Brennan felt herself getting rankled. 'I'm not some-'

'First off, I'm not interested in Perotta.' Booth told her, brown meeting blue without flinching. 'I mean, I know she likes me, but I don't see her that way.'

_He didn't?_

'Oh.' Was all Brennan could manage. Booth seemed amused by her lack of eloquence.

'Second, we're a team Bones. If I need a bone identified or some other problem to solve, you'd be the first person I'd call. All those times I needed you to be there for me, you've been there.'

'Do you…do you purposely act dumb to make me look more intelligent?' Brennan asked him, holding her breath. Booth appeared slightly stunned by her question, but quickly shook it off.

'I admit sometimes I let you be the smart one. And let's face it Bones, you are,' Booth said, laughing lightly. Brennan didn't feel the same way.

'You purposely belittle yourself to make me feel good? That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard!' Brennan exclaimed, throwing her arms up in the air. 'While you may not have a doctorate, you have a Masters in Criminology from Georgetown!'

'You know about that?'

'Of course I do! I needed to make sure you were good enough to work with me,' Brennan replied matter-of-factly. She didn't tell him how surprised she had been initially at discovering that the FBI agent who seemed hell bent on turning her life upside down was more qualified than she gave him credit for.

'You need to stop doing that Booth,' Brennan said, jabbing a finger into his chest. 'I don't want you doing that anymore. Besides, if today hasn't already proven it, you're obviously good at being a people person.'

'Yeah, I am,' Booth told her. 'It's my _job _Bones.'

'No,' Brennan retorted, shaking her head. 'It's more than that. Sweets was right. You were born with this innate skill that I probably will never replicate. I mean, I said all those horrible things to you when Jared was here and…' It was like the filter she had in her mind had switched off.

_I don't deserve you._

'I'm not going to say that didn't hurt, that you even thought or said those things,' Booth said softly, stepping closer towards her. 'But I think, what we have, it's strong enough for us to get through whatever the hell life throws our way. We're going to say things that we don't mean down the line, there's no denying that. Heck Bones, if there were ever two people unafraid to go for the jugular it'd be us.'

Brennan thought of asking him to explain the last sentence, but thought better of it when he pushed on.

'But no matter what anyone else says Bones, you've got a whole bunch of people who love you. Angela, Hodgins, Zach, even Cam.'

'Don't you love me Booth?' Seeing him sputter, Brennan hastily tried to rectify her mistake. 'Love as in the platonic, non-chemical induced sense, of course.'

That seemed to put him more at ease, though he still appeared uncomfortable. 'Yeah, Bones, of course I do.'

Something about the way he said it caught her attention. She could tell by the way he said it that he was being sincere, but his body language was indicating something else that Brennan couldn't quite latch on to.

'Thank you Booth,' Brennan told him. She didn't resist when he pulled her into one of his hugs. The warmth of his skin was intoxicating.

_He's Booth, Sweetie. Do you really need any other reason?_

Pressing her face into his shoulder, Brennan decided that she really didn't.


	7. Chapter 7

His words had haunted him since the moment he had said them in the SUV.

Sure, he had been worried about Cam. Despite the fact that there was always going to be the emotional baggage of a failed relationship between them, Cam and him had been friends first and foremost. The moment he had found out about Andrew, it was never a question that he was going to be concerned. Cam, he knew, might glare at him but she would accept his coddling only because she knew that was the way Booth showed that he cared.

Amidst all that, he had forgotten about Brennan. That is, until he had caught her trying to sneak out of the Jeffersonian to see Michelle.

At first he had tried to dissuade her from going to see the young teenager. It was bad enough that she had found out her father had been murdered and then eaten by a tiger. Booth was fairly sure a strange woman she had never met turning up on her porch at night wasn't something Michelle would welcome.

But Booth had seen something in Brennan's eyes and so he found himself by her side.

His partner had laughed almost painfully earlier in the SUV when he had told her that Cam needed to be out of the lab on this case. Brennan had given him a tight smile and said she belonged in the lab anyway. Cam had opened the door then, and once Booth had seen the sheen of tears on his ex-girlfriend's face, the need to find the person who had killed Andrew had all but consumed his mind.

Unsure of what to say, Booth killed the engine and pushed the gear into park.

'Cam knows I'm here, if that's what you're worried about,' Brennan's sudden declaration almost made him jump out of his skin.

'Really?' Booth asked skeptically. He winced.

'Yes,' Brennan's reply was short as she knocked on the door. Before he could say anything else, the wooden panel swung open to reveal Michelle.

'Hi,' Brennan started uneasily. 'I'm Dr Temperance Brennan. This is my partner, Special Agent Seeley Booth.'

'I know who you are,' Michelle said, eyes cutting back and forth between the two of them. 'Cam said you were coming.'

Brennan must have noticed the faint bitterness colouring Cam's name as well. 'Is it alright if we come in? I promise that we won't be long.'

Michelle wordlessly left the door open. Stamping his shoes on the welcome mat, Booth heard the girl call out to the housekeeper Cam had mentioned was living with Michelle.

_What was her name again?_

Brennan, he saw, approached the living room almost with trepidation. After waging an internal war with himself, Booth finally opted to just do what he always did. The moment his hand found its way to the small of her back, Brennan looked surprised but gave him what looked like a small smile.

Michelle sat on a large, plush arm chair, face set in a surly expression.

'Did you come here to tell me how much Cam loves me? Because she's already told me all that.'

'I know Michelle,' Brennan replied, surprising Booth who couldn't for the life of him recall hearing Cam and Brennan exchange words not relating to a decomposing body. 'It's…its part of the reason why I wanted to speak with you.'

'If you're going to sit there and tell me how you understand me, save your breath,' Michelle bit out.

'Hey,' Booth protested. 'I know it's been difficult but that doesn't mean you can be disrespectful.'

'It's okay Booth,' Brennan murmured, briefly touching his arm as he slowly reclined back on the loveseat that they were sharing. Brennan had removed her coat, exposing the low cut black v-neck she had been wearing the whole day. The expanse of creamy, unblemished skin and hint of décolletage had made interviewing the red-headed doctor earlier tricky.

Michelle continued to glare at Brennan with a small measure of hate. Brennan seemed to draw some kind of strength from the fingers he had lightly brushing her shoulders.

'When I was fifteen, my parents left,' Brennan started, leaning forward.

_Don't look at her chest you insensitive jackass._

The teenager's scowl softened somewhat.

'I woke up and they were just gone. I walked around the house, thinking that maybe they were outside or still asleep. My big brother Russ just told me that Mum and Dad left and that they weren't coming back. The next day, Russ got in his car and left as well.'

Booth wanted to kick himself.

'I know what it's like to be alone Michelle,' Brennan said in a low voice. Booth watched in fascination as Brennan laid her hand over Michelle's dark one, her delicate fingers curling around the girl's to offer comfort from the anguish painted clearly across Michelle's face. Brennan let her words hang in the air for a moment, before she drew in an inaudible breath.

'Right now, you think there's no one. Cam's a good person who wants to make sure that you're not alone. She's never going to be your father or your mother. But you have someone who genuinely loves you Michelle. When my family left and child services turned up, I didn't have someone like Cam _wanting _to take care of me.'

In his mind, Booth saw the innocent, happy girl in the photo in Brennan's file, the one she had given him when she had asked Booth to find out what happened to her parents. It was now being replaced by a forlorn figure, clutching a garbage bag like the one she had described to Sean Cook, staring down an empty driveway hoping and praying for someone, _anyone_, to appear.

'I just…I don't know,' Michelle mumbled thickly.

'Someone once told me that there was more than one kind of family. And I'm not trying to make you do something you're uncomfortable with. But I know how the system works and unlike me, you have a choice. Just…consider what Cam and I have said,' Brennan finished. Patting Michelle's hand somewhat awkwardly, Brennan rose to her feet. Booth and Michelle looked on quietly as Brennan fished out a card from her coat pocket.

'You don't have to use it if you don't want to, but if you ever need anything…' Brennan trailed off, pressing her business card firmly into Michelle's hand. The girl stared down at the scrap of cardboard, looking somewhat lost.

'Thank you,' Michelle told her softly, eyes still downcast.

'Thank you for listening to me,' Brennan retorted. 'Just remember Michelle that you're not alone right now, no matter how much you feels like you are.'

To everyone's surprise, Michelle abruptly flung her arms around Brennan. Booth watched, mouth slightly agape, as Brennan self-consciously returned the embrace, leaning down slightly to whisper something into Michelle's ear. Feeling Brennan tug at his coat, Booth followed her wordlessly out of the house, hearing the front door click gently shut behind them.

Brennan stood on the sidewalk in front of the SUV, hands buried deep inside her pockets and head titled back to look at the night sky. Booth mimicked her, taking in the dark velvet speckled with bursts of light. Glancing out of the corner of his eye, Booth couldn't but move closer when he took in the sad girly look on his partner's face.

'I'm sorry Bones,' Booth started. Brennan wrinkled her nose.

'Why?'

'Because I should have seen how Michelle's situation would have affected you.'

Brennan bristled slightly. 'You aren't my keeper Booth. I'm a big girl. Besides, Cam was the one needed our support. Just because there is a small possibility that I might identify with Michelle-'

Booth couldn't help but snort. Brennan glared at him, but then seemed to wilt.

'I just…if there is even a possibility that I can prevent that girl from becoming another statistic, then I have to try.' Brennan's tone was almost pleading, as if she was trying to make him understand. Booth thought he could feel a lump forming in his throat.

'You're not a number anymore Bones.'

'I know.' Booth could tell that she didn't really believe that herself.

'You got out of there and you made something of yourself Bones. I don't care what you think, that's something to be proud of right there,' Booth said, inching closer towards her until their shoulders were touching.

'Why is it you always try to make everyone feel better?' Brennan asked, leaving Booth wondering when she had gotten so perceptive.

_Because someone needs to make sure you're alright._

Booth shrugged nonchalantly. 'It's what I do.'

'Perhaps you should consider that sometimes other people are trying to make you feel better.'

Booth remembered telling her about Kosovo, about his father. How she had reached out and touched him and made some of the shadows bearable.

'You always do Bones. You always do.'

Feeling her arm wrap around his waist, Booth looked down in surprise. Brennan kept her face away from him, looking up at the stars with a small smile on her face. Looping his arm over her shoulder, Booth drew her to his side, trying to ignore the way her curves pressed pleasantly against his chest and ribs.

_Paladin, Bones. Paladin._


	8. Chapter 8

Booth had said that people left marks on each other.

In her line of work, those very marks helped her find out who the skeleton in front of her was. Did they play tennis? Were those gouges left behind by a knife, perhaps with a serrated edge? Did they suffer when they were bound and stuffed inside a fridge?

However, Brennan knew that her partner was being metaphorical.

And then they had seen Daisy at the bridal store, flinging her arms around a man who clearly was not Sweets. Everyone had chastised her for simply telling Sweets the truth. Wasn't it wrong to withhold information of infidelity? Wasn't that something that people partaking in monogamous relationships were highly critical of?

The subsequent talk about marriage, how Booth had simply brushed aside the assumption that Brennan herself would even consider committing herself to one man. It had stung. While she knew that Booth was merely reacting to the evidence presented to him – namely her persistence in describing the ritual as antiquated – it hadn't helped when he told her she was unkind.

While at first she had simply chosen to sweep it under the carpet, Angela had all but implied the same thing later in the lab.

Which was why she found herself knocking impatiently on Booth's door, shifting on her feet when her partner regarded her with an expression of surprise.

'Bones? What are you doing here?'

'I should have called,' Brennan said, taking in the bag of crisps he had clutched to his hand.

'What are you talking about? You know you're always welcome inside Casa Booth,' he told Brennan, flashing her a crooked grin and waving her in. Stepping through the threshold, she decided that being forthright would be the better option. If there was one thing Brennan had grown to detest, it was subtext.

It was especially distasteful whenever she recalled Booth's line.

Shaking her head, Brennan strode towards the couch, ignoring the quizzical look on Booth's face.

'You were right. I shouldn't have told Sweets,' she announced, all but flinging herself onto the comfortable cushions. Forcing herself deeper into the fabric, Brennan folded her arms under her breasts. 'I almost made their relationship irreparable.'

Hearing Booth sigh, Brennan pushed on. 'What I would like to rebut is your presumption that I am unkind. I fail to understand why telling Sweets the _truth _is something that all of you disapprove of. I know that if I was in a monogamous relationship with a man, and he was seeing somebody else, I would be highly appreciative if someone I consider a friend would enlighten me of this fact.'

'Sometimes Bones, it's best to just let things be as they are. We can't fix everything for everyone,' Booth said, lowering himself on the coffee table in front of her.

'Well I disagree. Sometimes we should provoke a reaction, instead of just sitting around in ignorance,' Brennan bit out. Seeing the worried look on Booth's face, Brennan held her tongue. Whatever she was feeling, thinking, imagining…

'What's this really about Bones?' His tone was soft, almost like a slide of a finger against her cheek.

'It's…it's nothing,' she replied, exhaling. 'I need a drink. Did you want a drink?' Abruptly, she got to her feet. Spying the bottle of amber liquid on the counter, Brennan grabbed it by the neck and picked up a crystal tumbler stacked next to it.

'That's only my good scotch,' Booth mumbled. Pouring two fingers, Brennan shoved it into his hand and kept the bottle for herself. It was the least he could do to aid her in her quest towards feeling better.

'Hey,' Booth nudged her with his foot, wincing as he took in a mouthful of alcohol.

'It's just that jealousy is such an irrational thing. As a scientist I under that there are some things outside the bounds of what I'm comfortable with. Even I feel jealous at times.'

'Who do you feel jealous of?' Booth questioned, leaning forward closer to her.

'Sweets, Daisy, Angela, Hodgins, Cam. You,' she finished, flashing her eyes upwards.

'Me?' He looked genuinely astonished.

_I'm jealous whenever another woman looks at you. _

Swallowing, Brennan took a swig.

'Woah. Easy there Bones. You get crabby when you're hungover,' Booth teased, gently easing the bottle from her lips.

'You told me that when you love someone you leave marks on them. That it takes time for those marks to fade,' she murmured, brushing aside the burning sensation in her eyes.

_Booth on the floor, blood pumping through her fingers._

_Lying awake on his bed, staring up at the ceiling, wondering how long it would take for the smell of him to finally fade away._

_Passing off FBI cases to the interns, choosing instead to work in Limbo. The bone storage room was the only place that didn't hold as many ghosts._

_Seeing a piece of apple pie and bursting into tears, the waitress watching her with an open mouth._

_Knowing that now that Booth was gone, everything didn't seem as bright anymore._

Booth nodded, choosing to remain silent though his eyes never left her face. At first, his constant attention unnerved her. Now, she chose not to take it for granted.

'All of you want to lose yourself in that one person. You all believe that love is transcendent, that it's the one feeling that crawls inside of your soul and makes you want to believe that no matter what, there's always going to be that one person who'll be there for you,' Brennan said, rolling the neck of glass between her thumb and finger.

'Hey Bones, look at me,' Booth said, pressing her chin up so that she could meet his eyes. 'You're going to find that person, alright? Like I said, everyone's got that special somebody.'

Brennan felt her heart break a little inside at his words.

_He had said that person. Not him._

'Yeah?' Her voice sounded strangled to her ears.

'If there's anyone who deserves to know that kinda love, it's you Temperance.'

The way he looked at her made her want to tear her hair out, laugh and cry all at the same time.

God, she hated nuance. Not only was she completely hopeless at identifying it, it was almost impossible for her to decipher the meaning behind it if she did end up catching it.

While Booth was a master at reading people, it seemed that he couldn't read her.

Or maybe he just didn't want to.

'Okay?'

His question broke her out of her melancholy long enough for her to choke out an answer.

'It's alright Booth. I understand,' she replied, before facing away from him as he sat beside her. If he was perplexed by her statement, he didn't show it.

So they sat side by side, just like they always did.

_Together but always far away._

As the alcohol burned down her throat, Brennan hoped it would help her forget about everything, especially the man next to her and his damn subtext.


	9. Chapter 9

Everyone had always said that they were complementary. Heart and mind. Gut and bone. Booth and Brennan.

But then again, his partner always had the capacity to surprise him, even after four years of them being almost attached at the hip. So when she had marched into Sweets office, her stride purposeful though she had been silent on the journey here, Booth wasn't sure why what she did or said came as a shock.

'Dr Brennan. Agent Booth,' Sweets greeted them, brow wrinkling and making him appear even more youthful than he already was.

It was hard to reconcile the fact that this, well, _boy_ in front of him had suffered so much. Sweets had always been upbeat and cheery, though he was prone to bouts of sulkiness, especially when Booth and Brennan were determined not to subscribe to his so-called "zone of truth". The fact that he was just as bruised and the two of them made the psychologist more accessible in a way, Booth supposed. The almost tangible effort Booth made to shield Sweets from his past, as dark and bloody and available to Sweets as it already was, was perhaps a futile attempt to help the boy retain some of that sunlight.

But looking at Sweets now, with all the new information he had, Booth wondered how he had missed the tell tale shadows buried deep within his eyes. He saw it whenever he looked into the mirror each morning. And he saw it in his partner's cerulean depths as she spoke to the younger man, one hand playing with the buckle of her coat.

'Booth and I would appreciate it if you would accompany us for dinner,' Brennan said. Sweets looked surprised, given the duo's persistent attempts to fob him off whenever possible.

'Thank you Dr Brennan but I have a lot of work to do,' Sweets replied, gesturing to a haphazard pile of paper stacked and spread over the bench top behind his desk.

'C'mon Sweets. Gordon Gordon's making some kind of award winning bean salad thing that we're gonna split family style,' Booth cajoled, slapping his hands and then rubbing them together in a show of anticipation. It was also a testament to how distracted Brennan was that she didn't immediately correct his assessment of Dr Wyatt's dish with the fancy French name the Brit had spouted in Booth's kitchen.

Sweets seemed to notice this too, slowly getting to his feet. 'You saw my scars, didn't you? Before?' While he tried to make himself come across as foreboding, the effect was ruined when it became clear how much Sweets wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole.

'Yes,' Brennan answered, obviously seeing no point in lying.

'I don't need your pity alright guys?' Sweets seemed to spit out, eyebrows flashing up in anger.

'Dr Wyatt mentioned that we should compare scars. At first I took him literally, but showing you the ones I have would make you uncomfortable since they are located in places where…' Brennan blurted out, silencing Sweets and stunning Booth. She swallowed before continuing. 'But then I realized that he meant it rhetorically.'

A beat where all three of them stood still, Booth staring at Brennan, Brennan returning the astonished look on Sweet's face.

'When I was sixteen, I got locked in the trunk of a car for two days. I was doing the dishes and the water was hot and the soap made everything all slippery. The water was so hot,' Brennan choked out, glancing at Booth long enough for him to see her eyes were glassy and her face flushed with colour. 'The dish it just dropped from my hand. My foster parents had warned me beforehand about the consequences so I suppose I received fair warning. But it was just _so hot_…'

'Dr Brennan,' Sweet's whispered, hesitantly reaching out to pat her shoulder before reconsidering. His arm dropped to his side like lead. 'It wasn't your fault.'

'Neither was it yours. While I am not sure of what happened to your biological parents, I do know that you were raised by two people who loved you. As someone who has been in the system, I didn't have that luxury,' Brennan responded, raising her chin to meet his. Something that Booth could only describe as a look had passed between them before Sweets had agreed to join them for dinner.

The next few hours had been spent devouring the delicious meal Wyatt had prepared. Sweet's had turned out to be surprisingly good company when he wasn't trying to shrink them. And although Brennan had churned out her obligatory spiel about the unscientific basis of psychology, the atmosphere had remained light-hearted.

Now Booth and Brennan stood side by side, Brennan flatly refusing not to soap and rinse Booth's good plates while he dried. It was almost painful seeing the nearly imperceptible flinch whenever she carefully ran the sponge over a dish.

'You can stop staring at me Booth. I'm fine,' Brennan told him. Booth stopped before resuming drying the cutlery he had in his hands.

'Did…did stuff like that happen often?'

'Getting locked in a car trunk?' Booth flinched at her blasé tone.

'Just…you said you had scars,' he finished lamely, mindful of keeping as close to Brennan as she would allow and trying not to imagine any part of her body marred by scar tissue.

Brennan expelled a breath, gently placing the cup down into the soapy water. Her head hung low for a moment, and Booth swore it seemed like the weight of the world was on her shoulders. This unguarded moment was testament to how much they had come to mean to each other.

'Some places were better than others. Not all of us got unsatisfactory homes. I guess I was part of the unlucky few since I was so old,' Brennan replied in a low voice, shrugging. 'But that is all in the past. It would be illogical to dwell on events that have already occurred.'

That standard wall of denial slowly stacked up, brick by brick, around the forensic anthropologist. Since he had been captured by the Gravedigger, it had decreased ever so slightly. There was still that small gap between them, a fissure just wide enough for Booth to wonder how to bridge over it. He thought they were making progress. Brennan had been more receptive towards him. If exposing something so painful in front of him wasn't enough evidence of that, he didn't know what was.

Seeing a tear track down her cheek, Booth reached into his pocket for the embroidered handkerchief his grandfather had given him. His grandmother had stitched her husband's initials in herself, claiming that it was so he could have a piece of her wherever he went. Handing it over into Brennan's foam-specked hands, Booth couldn't help but feel something warm curl in his stomach.

'I'm sorry. I don't know…I'll be alright,' Brennan mumbled, angling her face away as she swiped the cloth delicately across her face.

'The only reason why I didn't kill myself as a teenager was because of my grandfather.' The words were out of his mouth before he could contemplate his reasons for saying them. That familiar nervousness crawled across his skin just like the time he had told her about his father.

_What if she gets scared about how screwed up you are Seel? What will you do then?_

That fear paralysed him - that one day she would see him not as the brave FBI agent, but for the killer and scarred soul that he really was.

Instead, she looked up into his eyes and held them. The emotion that spun inside them made his breath hitch slightly.

_Why was she looking at him like that? What did that mean?_

Carefully folding the kerchief into a tidy triangle, she tucked it into his breast pocket. Patted the material that lay close to his heart softly while giving him a smile that said thank you and that she understood all at the same time.

Something Sweet's had said just before he left came back to Booth.

_I finally see what Dr Wyatt meant about the two of you._

Watching as Brennan turned back to the sink, Booth wondered what he meant.


	10. Chapter 10

The sterile walls of the hospital seemed to close in around her and made her partner, lying prone of the gurney, seem so vulnerable.

_When you respond viscerally, we can get to the root of your emotional issues and figure out what binds you two together as partners._

Her announcement to have a child wasn't something Brennan had decided in two seconds during one of Sweets' exercises. Those who knew her well enough would know that she had spent a large amount of time contemplating, deliberating, and deciding.

Before she had met Booth, even during the early stages of their partnership, Brennan would have said that the thought of bringing a child into this world - a child that was _hers_ - was ludicrous. There was just too much death, too much pain, too much _everything_. How would she explain to an innocent why fathers could stab their children to death. Why a mother would willingly abandon her child to the elements. How a father, mother and brother who claimed to love could leave her so easily.

But like many things since he had come into her life, Booth had shaken the foundations upon which she had built those presuppositions. Watching Parker grow, knowing the love that passed between father and son, it had stirred something maternal in her. Sometimes Brennan would close her eyes and imagine a little girl with auburn hair and pale skin smiling up at her, tiny fingers sliding down the apples of her cheeks. Over time, as her and Booth had orbited steadily closer, that little girl would have deep, chocolate eyes and her father's dimples.

Brennan had long ago accepted that she was in love with Booth. She wasn't as oblivious as everyone thought. Dr Wyatt could tell, she knew. That night when he had cooked his bean stew the Englishman had given her a knowing smile. In that moment, Brennan had felt a small piece of the enormity of what she was carrying around lift. _Someone _knew how she felt about Booth and, furthermore, they weren't telling her she was engaging in something futile.

At times Brennan had wondered whether feeling this way for Booth was worth it. For someone who claimed to be the heart between them, he was painfully ignorant when it came to his own. Of course Angela had been telling her of the crackling sexual tension between the partners since the day the FBI agent had swaggered into the Jeffersonian. Before Booth she would have said that was enough.

Now though…now she wanted _more._

Brennan had asked for her partner's sperm because, really, after everything she had observed about how Booth felt about her, it had seemed like the only thing he would be willing to give. He was still adamant about The Line. Whenever things between them got too intense, Brennan could almost see him draw it inside his mind. He would draw back, plaster on that semi-grin and pretend like everything between them was _friendly_.

_Well I'm not asking for you to be involved. I just want your sperm._

The words had been cruel and deliberate, she knew. Brennan understood the insecurity Booth felt about his relationship with Parker. Only having him on weekends, or less than that if Rebecca decided otherwise, ate away at the former Ranger. Captain Fantastic had done nothing but exacerbate that feeling of inadequacy, with Booth often commenting that he wasn't doing enough for Parker. Brennan would always tell him otherwise – if there was ever a father who would lay down his life for his child, it would be Booth.

_Emotional ties are ephemeral and undependable._

She had thought he would fight her request. Insist that he would be involved in some way. Insist that any child he had would be conceived of naturally, where they would both devour each other passionately and intimately as Angela had said.

Truth be told, she wanted the same thing. Brennan wanted Booth to tell her that a child wasn't just sperm and science, but emotions and love.

Instead he had told her that she wasn't going to have the spawn of Satan, that she could have his sperm. No obligation. Just him donating his seed so that she could be artificially impregnated and have a child.

Her child.

His child.

_Their _child.

Booth watched as Brennan's eyes drifted away from him.

_You really liked holding that kid, didn't you?_

She had held Spencer Holt's little girl in her arms, her face softening around the edges as she had discussed spatial disorientation with that small, fragile human. Brennan had been amazed how soft babies were, with their downy hair and large, curious eyes. It had been that way with Andy, he remembered. Booth had been hesitant at first about leaving Andy alone with Brennan, despite her being registered as a foster parent. The woman had expressed her discomfort with the child but, as Andy remained with them, Brennan had warmed up to him.

Booth hadn't been surprised when Brennan's eyes had glazed over with tears when she had placed Andy in Carol's arms. He had mentioned a future of the both of them with Andy, and she hadn't protested. Instead, she had smiled at him in that way she did, the one that made his stomach curl up.

So when she had asked him to be the father of her child, he hadn't hesitated. Yes, it made it more difficult to separate Brennan from the rest of his life. But then again, he was slowly realizing that there wasn't a part of his life that _didn't _involve her. The Diner, his office, his home, Parker…

_I want her to have a baby because she wants it._

Bones had always been rational. It was a trait that both reeled him in and repulsed him in same measure. In this case, it was the latter.

How could she think that he didn't want to be involved? That he was just going to leave her alone to raise their child, as if he was some deadbeat father who couldn't care less what happened to his offspring? Was that what she thought about him?

Was that how _little _she thought of him?

_This is not a life or death situation, you understand?_

But it _was_. This was him and Bones. That was his life. His everything. What had Brennan said to Sweets? Some crossover. Ha.

So he had told her that he had to be involved. He had to be a _father_. He wanted to be there when he or she said their first word, when they took their first step, when they called her mama…

Lying on the cot, looking up at her as the IV bag swung beside his elbow, Booth told her what he had wanted to say.

_I want you to have my stuff. You know, for our kid._

She had appeared stunned for a moment, before telling him that everything would be alright. That she would be right beside him when he woke up.

I'm ready, he had said. Brennan must have thought that he was ready to get the tumor out. Of course he was.

But more importantly Booth wanted Brennan to know that he was ready for _them_. He had grasped her hand in his, intertwined their fingers together. Her skin was so soft and smooth.

'I'll be right here Booth,' Brennan said, smoothing his hair down. Her face was covered by the scrubs and her eyes were so, so blue.

'I know,' he told her. He could feel the anesthesia creeping up, the black around his vision edging closer together.

The last thing Booth remembered was the image of a little girl - all auburn curls and brown eyes and big dimples - in Brennan's arms, her chubby hands outstretched and full mouth forming one word.

_Daddy_.


	11. Chapter 11

'Who are you?'

Brennan stared at him, her mouth gaping noiselessly open. Booth looked a little worse for wear – his face was covered in a light sheen of sweat, the shadows under his eyes were smudged with dark purple, and his skin looked pale and clammy. But what struck her most of all was the blank, slightly quizzical look in his eyes.

'What? Booth, it's me.'

She held her breath. There was no flicker of recognition, no small spark behind his eyes that usually occurred whenever he had grasped onto a thought he felt had escaped him.

'I'm sorry. Am I supposed to know who you are?' The guilty look on his face almost broke her. Reaching blindly for the uncomfortable plastic chair she had been sitting on for the past few hours, Brennan lowered herself slowly into the seat.

This wasn't supposed to be what happened.

Booth was supposed to smile at her, with those dimples and perfect rows of white teeth, and tell her that he really meant what he had said about her having his child. Because after four years of dancing around what was between them, four years of innuendo and substitution and pretending – _now _was the time when they would finally, _finally_ be able to themselves that they were _ready_.

But watching Booth run his eyes over a face, as if they had just met, made Brennan's heart squeeze painfully inside.

'I'm Temperance Brennan,' she finally managed to say, hearing her voice crack ever so lightly. Her knuckles were bleached and her fingers felt slippery against the hard, scratchy plastic.

'And you're my…'

'Partner.' The word felt bitter on the tip of her tongue. 'We work together. Do you remember your name?'

Booth appeared to struggle for a minute. 'You called me Booth, before. Is that my first or last name?'

'Booth is your family name,' Brennan informed him numbly. How had this happened? He was perfectly fine when they had wheeled him in…

'Ah, Agent Booth. You're finally awake,' Dr Kelso's words jarred Brennan out of her thoughts. The fatherly old man who had performed Booth's surgery was now at Booth's side, peering down his nose at the clipboard he had obtained from the foot of the bed. 'You gave us quite a scare for a bit.'

'Why?' Booth's clipped question seemed to startle Kelso. The corners of his eyes folded as he squinted.

'He appears to be suffering from some kind of amnesia,' Brennan spoke up, folding her hands together in her lap. She resisted the urge to twist her fingers.

'Well, that was always a possibility with these types of procedures,' Dr Kelso murmured. Clicking on a small penlight, Brennan saw Booth's pupils dilate and contract in response.

'Will someone tell me what's going on?' Booth demanded. From the set of his jaw, Brennan could tell he was agitated.

'Temperance.'

_He didn't call me Bones._

Whenever Booth had used her real name, it had always been intense. He would look into her eyes, deep and penetrating, and tell her that it was okay for her to feel the way she was feeling. Jasper, Smurfette, when he had undid the cuffs her father had slapped on her wrists. Not many people addressed her that way anymore – even Angela had long ago abandoned that in favour of shortening her last name.

But Bones…Bones had made her feel special. Sure she had railed against the nickname at the beginning. After all, their partnership had not exactly started out on the right foot. But over time, hearing the affectionate carress that Booth imbued it with, and noticing that no one else seemed to have garnered the same attention, the endearment had become something she could rely on to know that Booth knew she was there, that more importantly she was _his_.

_Oh how utterly Pride and Prejudice._

'Do you remember what the date is? Who the President is?' Dr Kelso asked.

'It's May 18th and Barack Obama is our President,' Booth replied, the surprise apparent all over his features.

'Does this mean it's temporary?' Brennan questioned, hoping she didn't sound as desperate as she felt.

'Drug-induced amnesia usually is,' Dr Kelso responded, scratching out something with a ballpoint pen. 'The premedicants used often erase memories of the short time frame the surgery is performed in. It can either be permanently lost or at least substantially reduced, but once the drugs wear off memory is restored. But Agent Booth here reacted badly to one of the premedicants used.'

Dr Kelso regarded his patient wearily. 'You've been in a coma for four days son.'

'_Four days_?' Booth choked out.

Brennan recalled the long, agonizing minutes she had spent watching the clock mounted above Booth's bedside table tick, tick, ticking away. It wasn't as bad as when she thought that Booth was dead of course. This time, she knew with every fiber in her being that Booth would make it out okay.

If not for her, then for their child.

'He doesn't know his name,' Brennan pointed out.

'My name is Seeley Booth.' Again, that look of wonderment stole across his face. 'Hey! Would you look at that, Temperance?'

Brennan tried not to feel resentful that he still did not seem to remember her.

Dr Kelso seemed to pick up on this as well. 'Considering that what Agent Booth just told me, its plausible to suggest that his memory will come back. It'll just take some time.'

'How much time?' Brennan demanded, ignoring the confused gaze Booth was sending her way. The almost pitying expression on Kelso's face made her heart hammer painfully against her chest.

_No, no, no. Not after everything that we went through. Not after everything that we said and did. _

That vacant look Booth had possessed when he had awoken was still etched across his eyes like a thick, nasty scar. Squeezing her eyes shut, Brennan forced herself to let out a shuddering breath.

'Temper-'

'Don't call me that,' she snapped out, her anger overpowering the guilt she felt when Booth's lips curved down. 'That's not what you call me.'

'What do I call you then?' Booth's words were part-sullen, part-curious. Feeling her nails bite painfully into the palm of her hand, Brennan let out a cynical laugh.

'It doesn't matter now, does it?' Shooting to her feet so fast her chair scraped back gratingly against the linoleum, Brennan offered a shaky smile to Dr Kelso. 'I'll go inform the others that he's awake.'

Hearing Booth call her name again – _Temperance again, not Bones_ – Brennan hastily swiped away the tear that had escaped.

Dr Kelso was wrong. He said that in time, Booth would remember. In time, Booth would be Booth again and not some half-formed semblance of himself that wasn't quite sure of his own skin.

But Brennan had learned long ago that time wasn't eternal. No, what had William Penn said? Time is what we want most, but what we use worst.

And feeling the taste of briny salt in her mouth, Brennan feared that she had used it the worst of all.

**a/n: hello one and all! Thanks to all those who have deigned to follow this project until now. This story isn't finished – I'll be resuming it once the fifth season kicks back into gear. Maybe by then this chapter will be redone to accommodate cannon? Who knows. But until September, this fic will be on-hiatus.**

**On a separate note, I have been nominated for an NCIS Fanfiction award (best crossover). I am trying to contain my excitement! The link is posted on my Profile page if you want to show your support. **

**Xoxo,**

**Alien09**


	12. Chapter 12

**a/n: this is dedicated to Meatball42 – a request for a happier ending to Chapter 11.**

**Please note that this is not a continuation of a fic. Rather, let's regard this as a kind of one-shot shall we?**

**Onwards!**

Booth remembered.

He remembered waking up, looking at Brennan and asking her who she was. He remembered her face crumpling ever so slightly as if he had physically struck her. He remembered her violent reaction when he had called her by her given name.

But most important of all, Booth remembered what he had told her before his operation.

It had been a week since he had been discharged. The sudden feeling of sun on his skin and air that wasn't sterile had been a welcome change from the monotonous bleached environment the hospital had provided. As the doctor had predicted, his memories had come back in bits and pieces, finally coalescing into a solid completeness that still felt somewhat…odd.

Booth felt like himself, sure. But he didn't feel like he _was _himself.

Did that even make sense.

The squint squad had all made an effort to make sure he was alright. Hodgins had spent an hour describing some rare fir tree that had found somewhere in the Amazon. Cam had kept him informed of what had been going on in the Jeffersonian, and dryly reminded him to call his brother. Sweets had tried to psychoanalyze him, key word being _tried_. Wendell had stopped by to take in a hockey game with him.

Parker had been by of course, bouncing up on the bed and telling his dad what had happened in school without seeming to take a breath. Rebecca had muttered something about how him being incapacitated was becoming a tired excuse, but Booth had been too enraptured by his son to care.

Brennan had made what Booth would describe a perfunctory visit with Angela. The forensic artist had kept glancing between the two of them, fidgeting slightly in the awkward tension, before dragging her best friend away with a curt assurance to Booth that they would see him soon.

He hadn't. Which was why he was now outside his partner's apartment, trying desperately to remind himself not to turn tail and run.

_I want you to have my stuff. You know, for our kid._

Booth knocked. And then waited, and waited, and waited. Narrowing his eyes, Booth knocked again, knowing full well that Brennan was home. Her lights had been on when he had pulled up to her complex.

The sliding of the lock eased his anxiety somewhat.

'Booth?' Brennan's tone was half-incredulous, half something else.

'Hey Bones,' Booth replied, rubbing the back of his neck. 'So, er, can I come in?'

'Oh yes, of course.' She stepped to the side, closing the door after him. The living room was moderately dim, a few candles scattered throughout emitting what smelled like peppermint. A book lay open on the coffee table, the print intimidatingly small.

'Would you like something to drink?'

'Some water would be nice.'

Booth watched the curve of her spine as she headed towards the kitchen. Her posture was hunched, defensive. It was as if she was afraid of what he might say. Brennan had so far made no mention of her driving need to have a child, or Booth's acquiesce to provide the…stuff.

She set the sweating glass down in front of him, easing herself down on the couch. Her hands, much like they had been the day he had awoken from his coma, were clasped and bone white in her lap.

'It's been a while,' Booth prompted, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye.

'I've been busy,' Brennan muttered. 'I'm sure the others came by to visit?'

'Yeah, but…' Booth breathed in a breath. 'I wanted to see you more Bones.'

She flinched ever so slightly at the nickname, much like she had done when he had called her Temperance.

'Are you going to tell me what's wrong?' Booth asked, some of the irritation creeping into his voice.

'Nothing's wrong.'

'Bullshit.' The expletive made her blue eyes widen and fly up to meet his. 'This is about you avoiding me after I agreed to have a child with you.'

'No, it isn't.' The denial sounded weak.

'You spent _days _convincing me to donate my…stuff so that you could have a baby! You spouted off stuff about sperm count and told me point blank that you didn't think I'd make a good father. What did you say again? That's right,' Booth didn't care that he sounded derisive, 'that I didn't have to be involved.'

'Stop it Booth!' Brennan all but shouted, startling him though he tried not to show it. 'Yes I asked you to have my child. But then they told me you had a tumour and then after that, you wouldn't wake up! I spent four days sitting there in that chair, wondering if you were going to come back. Wondering what I was going to do if you didn't.

'So when you woke up, I was so glad. Maybe I had done something right this time because you weren't dead. And then you looked at me and asked me…' Booth was horrified to see tears well up in her eyes. 'You asked me _who I was _Booth. Like I was a some stranger that you hadn't spent four years of your life with. Like I was _nothing_.'

_Oh god._

'Bones,' Booth said, his tone insistent. 'Bones look at me. I know who you are okay? You're not nothing. You've never been nothing to me.'

His words gave her pause. Booth hooked a finger under her chin, one thumb wiping away a tear.

_Her skin is really soft._

'I've been walking around these past few days, wondering why I still felt lost even though I got my memories back,' Booth started, licking his lips. Brennan's eyes latched on to the movement.

_This is it_, Booth thought, taking heart in what he had just seen. _Do it. You've both been shot, buried alive and skated death more times than an extremely lucky cat should ever have the right to do. Do it now._

'And I realized it's because I hadn't told you I was in love with you.'

His declaration hung there, suspended. Brennan's eyes now resembled dinner plates, her mouth dropped open into an "o" of shock.

'No, you don't.'

Booth couldn't say he hadn't been expecting that. 'Yes, I do.'

'Is this because I asked you to have a baby with me?' Brennan demanded, jumping to her feet. 'Because I _coerced _you into that. I manipulated you into doing-'

'Did you really think I'd just let you have a baby that was half me without _feeling _for you?'

His quiet words stilled her.

'I don't expect you to say it back. I don't expect you to feel the same way. But I just wanted to let you know that I love you,' Booth repeated the words, feeling more bold. He felt at peace somehow, like something heavy had been cast off his shoulders. He felt…free.

'I can't...I don't understand.'

'Love's good like that Bones. It just _is_. It's when two people decide to break the laws of physics together, become one.'

'You love me?' Brennan looked to be in awe, though Booth could see the naked fear plainly written across her face.

'Yes, so stop avoiding-'

Her lips were pressed up against his, her palms warming the back of his neck and tangling in his hair as she constricted the space between their bodies.

All coherent thought left him.

Suddenly she was looking up at him, lips plump and red.

'I wouldn't have just asked anyone to father my child Seeley.'

'Yeah?'

'Have I ever lied to you?'

Booth lowered his grinning mouth to capture her's once again.

It wasn't the three words he was looking for. But, he decided, it was enough.


	13. Chapter 13

Being himself wasn't easy.

Booth had spent six weeks in a coma, trapped in a life he thought was his. He had seen Temperance and told her they were married, that she was pregnant with his child. That alternate reality had sustained itself for a few days, before gradually fading away to reveal the stark truth – he wasn't married, there was no giddy anticipation for a child, and Bones was off in Guatemala somewhere digging up ancient mummies.

He had walked around in a daze while Sweets dangled recertification in front of him like a bone, trying desperately to be the Seeley Booth he had been before the coma.

He had grown a beard, which he thought made him look rather rugged, lent an air of danger to his persona. Cam had taken one look at it and burst out into a fit of side-clutching laughter.

It didn't help that he kept missing things that he should have known. Like the socks, for instance. Brennan had made a pointed comment about his regulation white ribbed ones, told him how he used his tie and socks to rebel against authority.

He had immediately gone to the store and bought a striped, crazy pair and found the cocky belt buckle stashed away in the bottom drawer of his desk. Booth had put them on, wiggled his toes and felt no different.

Which seemed to be a problem.

Cam said he was in love with Brennan. Booth had been so sure he was too. He kept remembering what it was like to touch her skin, to kiss away those frown lines, to cradle her close at night and just listen to her heart beat like a lullaby. Then he would blink and realize that _that _wasn't real. Special Agent Seeley Booth was nothing more than a partner to Dr Temperance Brennan. They solved murders, spent a lot of time with each other, but were never anything more than _just _that.

It made him want to shoot a clown.

Booth knew he was afraid of clowns. That garish red painted smile and black lined eyes were supposed to make him flinch. He didn't feel that fear anymore. He had squeezed that big red nose and laughed. Brennan had looked at him like he was crazy.

'You hate clowns,' she had said, studying him as if she wasn't sure this was the man she knew. It had made his heart clench then, and he had started to question whether he did really love her. Sweets had showed him the scans – those parts of his brain that controlled love were lit up like a Christmas tree. They would fade away like the rest of the after effects, the younger man had said with a seriousness that belied the situation.

'We both know that Dr Brennan's hyper-rationality is really a cover for an extremely vulnerable core,' Sweets told him. Cam had said the same thing, except she had mentioned Brennan dying of loneliness.

But those feelings wouldn't leave him.

He had spent a whole night looking at the scans Sweets had brandished as proof of his delusion. Those glowing pink spots seemed to taunt him. I wasn't there before, they had shouted at him, but now I am. I may be just a figment of your imagination, but I'm real all the same.

Which do you choose?

In the end, he had screwed up whatever courage he had and told Bones that he loved her. It couldn't be wrong, these emotions that erupted within the blood pumping through his heart whenever she was within range. The kiss of sun on her cheeks, her hair glowing like a red sunset, those blue eyes looking at him through half-lowered lids, the full sweep of her eye lashes against porcelain skin – it just couldn't be something that was anything other than what _he _felt.

'I love you.'

Her eyes had widened and for a long, infintesmal minute the world had come to a screeching halt. They had stared at each other, Booth hopeful and Brennan something else. A bubble of silence wrapped around them and strained his nerves to the very end.

_Was I wrong?_

'In an atta girl kinda way,' he had finally added, because he wasn't so sure about screwing up the one thing in his life that seemed to finally be right for a change. His smile was full, dimples out in force and he had landed a playful punch on her shoulder.

'I love you too Booth.' Her words had made his heart skip a beat and something warm and altogether pleasant had effused throughout his being – Booth was sure that he was walking on air.

'In an atta boy kinda way,' she had tacked on as well, her knuckles grazing his arm.

The words were never brought up or discussed again. Every once in a while Booth would catch Brennan looking at him like he was a particularly interesting piece of bone, waiting to be handled with care and respect. Other times he thought he saw hunger cross her eyes, so fleeting and so brief that he was sure she imagined it.

He didn't know how it had happened, how two people could say I love you and mean it, yet pretend that everything was normal. But that was how they worked. The balance they had worked so hard at achieving was edging towards something more fulfilling, but for right now they Booth was content to let things be as they were. Brennan was delicate and fragile underneath that icy (well, to him she was anything but) exterior, and Booth wanted her to learn to accept him and accept herself as well.

Because deep down Booth knew that Brennan thought she wasn't good enough.

She was wrong.

'What did she mean that everything would work out eventually?' Brennan asked him, glancing at Avalon as she walked away from the pair of them. Booth watched the psychic go, taking heart in her words. He didn't know whether she was really what she said she was, but Avalon had nurtured the hope nestled inside, and that was good enough for him.

'Booth?' Brennan prodded, folding her arms under her chest. Shaking his head, Booth gave her a small smile and walked casually past, folding his hands into his pockets. The poker chip he had found lying on his kitchen counter was a comforting presence.

'Why are you smiling? Booth! Will you answer me?' Brennan sounded exasperated, arms on her hips as she gave Booth what she thought must be an intimidating glare.

'You know Bones, I've spent the past couple of weeks wondering what's wrong with me,' Booth announced, motioning for her to close the door to his office.

'For the last time Booth, there is nothing wrong with you. The doctors said that your brain will go back to normal eventually. Though it would have been nice if they had indicated a specified time frame,' Brennan mumbled the last part, seating herself in one of the visitor chairs.

Booth resisted the urge to chuckle seeing her disgruntled expression.

'Contrary to what everyone seems to think, I am back to normal,' Booth said, steepling his fingers behind his head.

'You still aren't afraid of clowns,' Brennan pointed out somewhat hesitantly. The way she said it made Booth think there was something hidden underneath, a diffidence born out of fear.

'I may not be one hundred per cent yet, but everything I've said so far is true,' he told her, never breaking eye contact.

'But the doctors-'

'Let those neurosurgeons tell me about my brain,' Booth interrupted, repeating the words Avalon had told him on those steps. 'I know what's in my heart.'

The flash of white bandage on her forearm made his heart squeeze. She noticed his gaze, flicking her eyes towards him.

'I don't think there's anyone with a better heart than yours Seeley,' she stated, as if it were carved in stone.

'Thank you Temperance.'

_I've got you baby. I've got you._


	14. Chapter 14

Brennan held the pipe in her hands, the purple smear resembling the elephant in the room that was simply begging to be acknowledged. Waiting for the glue to dry, and trying to ignore the hard muscle pressed up against her side, Brennan wondered about when the teacher had become the student.

It would be illogical to disprove the impact Booth had had on her life. When she had first met him, the thought of anything outside the Jeffersonian had been an unwelcome distraction from her work. Reading bones and interpreting the stories they told had become a passion that she had worked hard at cultivating. While many struggled to understand her attachment to forensic anthropology, to Brennan it had become a way for her to connect to a world that had largely been hostile to her. She could tell if someone had been a swimmer, dancer or writer. She could tell how tall or short, how much they weighed, what their faces looked like.

Where people saw bones, Brennan saw people. It wasn't that she felt nothing towards the skeletons laid out in front of her. If anything, Michael Stires had revealed how very much she invested in the dead so she could bring them to life.

Bones were less disappointing in a way. They never left you – you left _them_. She was able to dictate the terms and conditions of their relationship. There was no need for mutual respect or reciprocity. In the end, Brennan held the control. She was able to determine what and how this person was dealt with. There were no uncertain variables, no need to consider whether her words were harsh or considered uncouth. The bones were thankful she was there, happy that someone was able to close the last chapter of their lives.

But Booth had changed all that.

Now bones were still people, but there were also _people_ out there that needed her.

Special Agent Seeley Booth had showed her that it was okay to put her faith in the living again. There was more than one kind of family, he had told her. Brennan had looked around at her team and realized he was right. These people that she worked with everyday weren't just pieces of skeleton that she could do with as she pleased. Booth had taught her the meaning of reciprocity, the way that relationships weren't about control but rather about the course two people sought to chart.

He had taught her about love.

And it had seemed, for that brief moment before when he had told her he loved her on the sidewalk outside the Diner, that maybe she had taught him something about love too.

But then he had grinned and said _in a professional, atta girl kind of way_.

Brennan wrinkled her nose.

'What's wrong?' Booth asked her.

'Nothing. This stinks,' she replied back, making sure her eyes were fixated on the pipe.

'Yeah, well. This coming from the woman who sees nothing wrong with sniffing decomposed bodies,' Booth said. Brennan swallowed, making a noncommittal sound in the back of her throat.

'So we hold this in place for a few minutes to let it set,' Booth told her, reaching over and placing his hand on top of hers. The tingle she felt when her skin came into contact with his made her shiver slightly. Booth cleared his throat, settling his hand next to hers instead. Silence enveloped them, broken by the groan of wood.

'So, an anonymous donation huh?'

'Yes. I'm happy that Wendell managed to secure the funding needed to continue his internship. I've grown accustomed to his presence. Not to mention that he possesses above average intelligence,' Brennan pointed out. Booth bumped his shoulder against hers.

'C'mon Bones. We all know why you gave him the money. It wasn't because of his mind. You _like _him.'

'How do you know _I _gave him the money? Cam said there were three donations made, not just one.'

Brennan felt Booth's gaze on her and pressed her fingers tighter around the pipe.

'It's okay to like him Bones. Zach isn't going to hate you for it.'

Instinctually, Brennan felt her eyes begin to burn.

'This has nothing to do with Zach. My feelings towards Dr Addy are not affecting-'

Booth snorted. 'You tried to distance yourself from Wendell so you wouldn't get too attached to him. I know you Bones. You're afraid that you're going to adopt him into your family, and then he's going to end up like Zach and you're going to think it's all your fault.'

A beat. 'That's a huge supposition.'

Booth sighed. Brennan saw her knuckles turn white. She remembered going to see Zach at the hospital, after Caroline had left.

'**I was already proud of you Zach. **_**So very proud**_**.' Hands balled into fists. 'You were an excellent scientist. You were able to push aside your emotions and yet remember that even though objectivity and sanity called for coldness, that **_**feeling **_**something was allowed after. Booth will never understand that. When there's a skeleton in front of you that barely covers half the table, you have to be able to look at it and see nothing but a pile of bones, not a little boy who loved to climb trees and wanted to be a pirate.' **

'It's okay to want to like Wendell Bones. Zach wasn't your fault or mine. He was a grown man and he did what he did.'

'He killed someone,' Brennan whispered.

'Yeah, but you haven't left him yet,' Booth told her. 'You still visit him, so do the squints. He made a mistake and you forgave him. Wendell isn't going to do the same thing. Zach was an anomaly-'

'Zach was a lot like me,' Brennan countered. 'He understood why I did what I did. He understood why I needed to be the way I am. None of you do.'

'I understand Bones. It's taken me a while to figure you out, but I have.' She felt Booth lean into her.

_He sees what's inside and he's dazzled by it._

'I've been shown that financial and personality contradictions aside, I can still be close to people. That I can trust them.'

'Well, you're a good student.'

'I'm only as good as my teacher,' Brennan said, focusing her blue eyes onto his brown ones.

_And now the student needs to become the teacher._

'I'm glad we have no secrets from each other,' Booth commented, gently easing their hands off the pipe. He draped his arm across her, reaching to turn on the water. 'That we can say whatever's on our minds.'

_Except the fact that you can't tell me you love me._

'See, what did I tell you? Who needs to pay eight hundred bucks to a plumber when you can fix it yourself?'

'Because we don't do it for money right?' Brennan asked, leaning on her elbows and listening to the water screech through the aged pipes.

'No, no we don't,' Booth replied, his voice low. He reached over to smooth a strand of hair behind her ear.

Avalon had told her that Booth knew her, understood her, accepted her for who she was. That he was dazzled. While she didn't believe in tarot cards and psychic fiction, Booth's feelings towards her were something she felt she could put her heart into.

Because as they sat there, both sputtering as the pipe burst and she exclaimed over the fact that her Rolex might be broken, she realized that whatever they did, they did it for love.

She just had to show Booth that, just like he had shown her.

**a/n: the visit Brennan makes to Zach can be found on my profile, titled 'Against Utility'.**


	15. Chapter 15

'So 22 huh?' Booth found himself asking as they shared Thai food at her place. Booth had decided long ago, amnesia or no amnesia, that he liked Brennan's apartment. Sure it had weird masks pinched into grotesque expressions that his partner liked to call "art", but nevertheless there was something quintessentially soothing about it. Maybe it was because this was essentially her refuge from the world, the one place where she escaped to unwind and unravel and forget about the horrors they faced at work.

This was where she could, ultimately, be herself. It was, to paraphrase her, very _Brennan-y_.

'Are you still preoccupied with that?' Brennan replied, pausing halfway in her attempts to secure some pad thai.

'You got to admit its pretty surprising considering.'

'Considering what exactly?' Brennan wrinkled her brow.

'Well,' Booth fumbled for the right words. 'Since I've known you, you've made your sexual relationship kind of public.'

'As friends,' Brennan hesitated for a moment, 'isn't it the social norm to share such information? Angela all but demands it from me. I thought I would extend the same benefit to you considering the close relationship that we possess.'

'Yeah but Ange is your _girl _friend,' Booth stressed.

_And I also don't like hearing about other guys touching you. In any possible way._

'There's a difference? I thought the term best friend was gender neutral,' Brennan murmured to herself. Booth waved his hand in a flourish.

'But we're getting off topic here. You were 22. Who was it with?'

'Didn't you just say that only girl friends share such information?' Brennan countered, raising an eyebrow.

'I told you about my first time!' Booth protested, sending a stray noodle flying onto the table. Sheepishly he wiped it up using a paper napkin.

'I fail to see how this is relevant.'

'Aww c'mon Bones. Quid pro quo right?'

Brennan gave him a look, one that flickered over his entire face before her mouth settled into a thin line. Her eyebrows furrowed over, and Booth wondered whether she was going to answer him.

'You've met him. During the Maggie Schilling case.'

'_Stires_ was your first?' Booth asked, pushing down the vein of jealousy snaking its way through his system. He remembered the urbane, well-groomed professor who had waltzed into the lab as if he belonged there. Stires had been smug, condescending and…well, Booth hadn't liked him on first sight. There was something about the way him and Brennan had connected that made Booth uneasy. So used to struggling to find some sort of common ground in their partnership, the FBI agent had watched with growing consternation as Brennan relished in Stires attention.

Of course, that had been before the trial.

'I see,' Booth finally said, aware that Brennan seemed to be awaiting a response.

'Yes, I was 22 and he was my Professor. While normally I wouldn't have engaged in such an affair, there was something about Michael that appealed to me.'

'Huh,' Booth ground out, stabbing his noodles viciously. Brennan appeared not to notice.

'Perhaps it was because we shared the same viewpoint. He was the first man to ever take an interest in me,' Brennan trailed off, the last part said in barely a whisper. 'He made me feel beautiful.'

Booth didn't know what to say to that. Swallowing, he placed the container of food on the coffee table, taking in the way Brennan hunched over protectively.

'Of course, my estimation of him proved to be false. So therefore I don't see much-'

'Stires was a dick, alright Bones?'

'He was a penis?' Brennan remarked, scrunching up her face.

'Turn of phrase Bones. Turn of phrase,' Booth resisted the urge to sigh. Brennan's face was pinched into a shadow of hurt and Booth's arms ached to reach out and smooth it away.

'He was right, wasn't he? Even that jury consultant agreed with him, and I barely knew her. In fact, you told the prosecutor-'

'Don't compare me to Stires,' Booth all but barked out. Brennan blinked, taken aback by the vehemence in his tone.

'What I'm trying to say is that Stires couldn't handle you.'

'That's what Angela said too,' Brennan told him, absently stirring the rice around. 'Something about power and dominance.'

Booth rolled his eyes.

'A relationship isn't about two people trying to compete against each other. It's about two people being equals and accepting the other for who they are. Stires was a jerk who saw a way to use your feelings for him against you. If he ever cared for you at all, he wouldn't have done that.'

'I suppose,' Brennan murmured. 'But still, I know you saw me as exactly the way Michael did when we first met. I remember a few occasions when you verbalized them,' she said ruefully, flicking her eyes away.

'You're a difficult person to know Bones,' Booth joked lightly before sobering. Slowly, ever so carefully, he wrapped his hand around her wrist. 'But it was more than worth it to discover what was hiding underneath.'

Booth was surprised when Brennan ran a finger over his knuckles, her touch feather-light yet sending shocks shooting through his arm.

'The girl who you slept with was lucky Booth.' The words were said so softly Booth thought he had heard wrong.

_I wish I had known you at sixteen._

'Thanks Bones,' he told her instead. They sat there, fingers almost intertwined with each other.

The large grandfather clock chimed.

Reluctantly, Booth released his hold.

'Here's to first times,' Booth nudged her with his shoulder, brandishing his spork in front of her face.

'No, here's to last times.'

Booth smiled, his heart picking up on the subtext.

Yeah, he thought, looking into blue eyes.

_I want you to be my last._


	16. Chapter 16

_I want you to be my village Bones._

It often left Brennan speechless the honesty that pervaded children. They spoke what was on their mind, no matter how the person hearing it would receive their words. That air of innocence and their simple outlook on life was refreshing to her. Adults never said what they meant, hiding behind veils of innuendo and double-meanings that left her head spinning.

'What'cha thinking about Bones?' Booth asked her. Brennan slid him a sidelong glance for a moment before reverting her eyes back to the road, watching as buildings and people passed by in a blur of colour.

'I was just wondering why you don't have a girlfriend.' Just as she predicted, Booth quickly whipped his aviators off, sputtering in that way that meant he didn't know she was going to say that.

'You gave Parker the pool-'

'Well I realize why Parker wanted you to have a girlfriend. I still don't understand why you didn't simply ask him beforehand why he had developed such a healthy interest in your sex-'

'_Woah_! Okay! Let's not put my eight year old and sex in the same sentence, alright Bones? It was disturbing enough having the kid shrink my son's sexual development and…' He trailed off, obviously uncomfortable. 'The point is I don't have a girlfriend because I don't have a girlfriend.'

'That doesn't answer my question.'

'Yes, it does.'

'Repeating the same thing twice isn't adequately-'

'Jeez Bones, does it really matter?'

_Yes, it does._

'Not particularly. But my interest has been sparked, I must admit.'

'Well, why don't you have a boyfriend?' He shot back, looking at her with something like triumph. Brennan rolled her eyes.

'I simply haven't found someone who reciprocates my interest.'

_Tell me the truth Booth. No professional, atta-girl kinda way added on. Just the truth._

Her words made him pause ever so slightly. Anyone who didn't know him well enough would have missed the clenching of the jaw, the flexing of the hands on the wheel. But she knew this man like the back of her hand, could find him in a sea of strangers without her sense of sight easily.

'Huh,' was all Booth managed to say.

'Well? Aren't you going to answer me now?'

Booth sighed. 'Look Bones, my brain still isn't right. The last thing I need is trying to figure out whether the woman I love-'

'So you do have feelings for someone?' Brennan pounced.

'What? No, I don't.'

'You just said the woman I love, clearly indicating that-'

'I was being hypothetical. That was a hypothetical scenario. I don't actually love anyone. Well, I mean of course I love people. Like Parker. And my Mum,' Booth fumbled his words. Silence elapsed after that, Booth refusing to meet her eyes.

'Well if you want your idyllic life in the suburbs, you'll need someone to procreate with,' Brennan told him, flicking a shoulder. 'Though I fail to see the appeal considering what just transpired in that particular cul-de-sac.'

'You don't think about having the white picket fence? Not at all?' Booth asked, raising an eyebrow.

Brennan closed her eyes, feeling her fingers dig into her palm. She had asked him to father her child, and he had agreed, but the coma had swept that all away. At least, she thought so, considering that he had never brought it up. The doctor had mentioned that short-term amnesia was a permanent possibility.

'I did,' she conceded, saying the words softly. Booth picked up on something in her tone, his chocolate eyes narrowing.

'Yeah?'

'But I think…I'm not so sure anymore,' she admitted, tracing a pattern onto the glass. Her fingers slid noisily against the window.

'You know Booth, I think we can learn something from Parker,' she said, spotting the spiraling blue and red lights up ahead.

'What?' Booth questioned, pulling the SUV to a stop.

'Well, when I asked him a question he answered truthfully.'

'I don't know what that means,' Booth said and the irony of his words made her chuckle sadly. The sweep of his lashes and the way the gold in his eyes came out whenever the sun struck his face just so made her momentarily speechless.

'Children say what they mean. I think we could all learn a little something from that,' she replied, unlocking the door. His hand on her wrist made her look back. Booth's face was twisted into a frown.

'What is this Bones?'

Brennan affected innocence. 'Nothing. I'm simply sharing an observation with you.'

'Are you trying to tell me that I'm _lying_ to you?'

Brennan shook her head, noticing the odd looks the CSU team were sending their way.

'Sometimes you don't have to say anything at all for it to be a lie,' she murmured absently. Booth sucked in a breath.

_You know what I mean, don't you? And yet…_

'I haven't-'

'Of course not Booth. Forget I said anything. That particularly short man looks agitated. Perhaps you should go flourish your badge in his face,' Brennan suggested, smoothly disentangling herself from his grip and getting out of the car. Booth mumbled something under his breath but she heard him lock the doors, the _beep beep _sounding oddly final.

She had thought that perhaps he would give her something to latch on to; something that would make Avalon's words anything but false hope. But it had been weeks and Booth hadn't done anything to show her that he cared for her in any way. This waiting, this grasping at straws, wasn't what Temperance Brennan did.

_We always lie to the ones we love._

Well, Brennan thought, the truth may hurt a while but a lie hurts forever. And this one had maybe hurt a little too much for a little too long.

**a/n: I was trying to make sense of how Brennan would suddenly agree to go out on a date with Andrew after all that suggestion about BB. I hope I succeeded. Reviews make me update faster.**


	17. Chapter 17

Looking at her now as she laughed, no one would have guessed how nervous she was. The flute of champagne clutched in her hand was still full and the soft yellow light cast by the chandeliers dipped and shadowed the expanse of creamy skin Brennan's dress left uncovered.

He'd almost kissed her then, down in the Anok exhibit. She had leaned towards him, with her full lips and low voice, and repeated the words he had told her in her office. Her eyes had called to him, like a siren song, and he had found himself wanting to meet her halfway. And for a moment Brennan had looked at him, as if she were telling him that it was okay.

But then, like many things that happened between them, the world conspired against him.

'See something you like handsome?'

Turning to the side, Booth was caught between a smile and a groan. Angela flashed him a full grin, the vintage metallic shift she was wearing rustling with every move she made.

'Hey Angela,' Booth said with an easy smile.

'Not that you don't look positively delectable in that suit, but you don't look anything like Andrew,' the forensic artist pointed out. Booth swallowed.

'Yeah, well, Bones decided to take me instead,' he replied lightly.

Angela hummed, looking at him out of the corner of his eye.

'You know Booth, I'm surprised you're alright with Andrew staking his claim.'

Booth gritted his teeth. He was far from okay with the thought of Assistant Director Andrew Hacker trying to schmooze his way into his partner's life.

'Bones does what she wants. I can't exactly tell her she can't date my boss.'

'That would be kinda hypocritical, wouldn't it? Considering what you had with Cam,' Angela commented, pursing her lips. Sighing, she must have picked up on something because she planted her hands on her hips.

'Okay Booth, out with it. Just say it.'

'What?'

'I've been celibate for _four hundred years _Booth, so don't play coy with me. I mean, you look like you want to strangle someone.'

'Angela,' Booth protested, watching as Brennan threw back her head and laughed. Following his line of sight, Angela shook her head.

'You guys are hopeless, you realize that don't you? I thought that after she came back the two of you would finally just-'

'It's not that simple Ange. You know that.'

'She loves you, you know that right?'

Booth swung his face towards her, heart beating erratically.

'Then why is she going out with Hacker?' Booth retorted somewhat bitterly.

'Because, Sweetie, I think she's tired of waiting for you to tell her how you feel,' Angela told him, drawing out her words.

He remembered how Brennan had spoken about truth, and how Parker had answered her honestly when she had asked him something. He remembered grabbing her wrist, trying to chase away some of whatever it was that lingered behind her eyes. In the end they had carried on with their day, neither wanting to bring up the conversation again.

'What do you want me to say Angela?' Booth asked, feeling tired.

'You know, sometimes I wonder how two people who are so different could ever come to be so,' Angela paused for a beat, searching for the right word. '_Intertwined_. Because that's what the two of you are. Bren and you circle each other, like a ring of gas around a planet. You're both together, but you're never really touching, never really making that final connection.'

Booth remained silent.

'I'm not sure…I don't know if I can,' Booth admitted.

'Your own son told you that work was a stupid excuse,' Angela remarked, giggling when she saw the surprised expression on his face. 'Oh please, Bren tells me everything. And on that count, I can say that the jury was unanimous.' She lifted a brow pointedly.

Spotting Brennan making her way towards them, Angela settled a hand on his bicep.

'Just…I think its time the two of you catch up with your own reality. It's time to stop orbiting around each other Seeley.'

Whatever else Angela would have said was lost as Brennan swept up in front of them.

'Can we go?'

Angela smirked. 'I'm surprised you lasted as long as you did. Make sure she gets home safe, alright?'

'Thank you for coming Ange,' Brennan told her friend warmly, kissing her friend on the cheek. Booth smiled, watching both women enfold each other into a hug.

'Did you enjoy the exhibit?' Booth asked, helping Brennan into her coat. Resisting the urge to run his fingers through her hair, he reached to adjust his bow tie.

'It was nice, remembering why I chose this profession,' Brennan replied as Booth guided her towards the exit, hand on the small of her back. He could feel the heat of her skin through the layers of fabric.

'You know, _The Mummy _was what made me want to become a forensic anthropologist. In the movie, Whemple said,' Brennan cleared her throat, casting her register into a deeper tone that made Booth smile. 'Much more is to be learned form studying bits of broken pottery than from all the sensational finds. Our job is to increase the sum of human knowledge of the past, not to satisfy our own curiosity.'

'Do you miss it?' Booth questioned, recalling the enthusiastic tone she had adopted when they had interrogated the Egyptian curator and her haste to leave the interrogation room once they realized what the artifact in Anok had really meant.

'Sometimes. But…you've shown me that there are more ways to study broken bits of pottery Booth. Now I don't just increase the knowledge of the past, everything I do helps make the present a little more bearable,' Brennan replied, pressing her arms close together as the cool night air settled around them.

Booth hesitated, struck by the way the moonlight played across her face.

_God, she's beautiful._

'You'd tell me right? If I was holding you back from doing what you wanted to do?' He finally asked. Brennan glanced at him for a moment, eyebrows raised in confusion and amazement.

'What happens between us stays between us right?' Brennan said. The tone of her voice conveyed something deeper, something that made him want to hold onto her and not let go. He cleared his throat, slinging an arm over her shoulder.

'You were great you know? Egypt probably could have put a bit more effort into celebrating the fact that you corrected three thousand years of history, but I suppose you had to settle for second best huh?' Booth joked, squeezing her arm. Brennan remained quiet for a minute.

'Sometimes second best isn't enough,' it was said so softly that Booth thought he hadn't heard it.

'What was that Bones?'

'Nothing,' she told him, shaking her head and then leaning it against her shoulder. 'It's a nice night, isn't it?'

'Yeah, it is,' Booth murmured, the feel of silk against his cheek.

Looking up, he wondered how long it would be before being in orbit wasn't enough.


	18. Chapter 18

Booth had glanced over his menu at his partner, who was cradling her chin in her hands and tracing a pattern onto the table with her finger. He noticed that she had chosen to sit next to Boy Wonder and not him, and wondered if that meant anything significant.

'You alright there Bones?' He finally had to ask, wincing internally when Sweets' eyes flickered over to Brennan with interest. Brennan herself barely looked up at either of them, assuring them that she was fine and that they should get back to the case. She had remained that way for most of the day and Booth had had enough. He hated it whenever Brennan got like this. It ate away at him as if they shared some kind of symbiotic link, and any negative feeling she had automatically seemed to have the same kind of corrosive effect on him.

_Might be because you love her._

_Shut up._

_Just saying._

'Hey, you _sure _you're okay?' Booth pushed, peering at her as the SUV coasted to a stop at a red light. Brennan let out a ragged sigh and Booth questioned whether he really wanted to know what was happening between the pair of best friends. He had dated twin sisters once, and that hadn't gone over too well.

'It's Angela.'

Silence.

'You're gonna have to give me something more to work with Bones,' Booth told her gently, shifting the car into drive as the light turned green.

'She wants me to save a pig.'

'A _pig_?' Booth repeated in disbelief.

'Yes. She needs fifteen hundred to save this-'

'She wants _how much _to save Babe?'

'How do you know what the pig is called?' Brennan asked him, confused.

'It's a movie Bones,' Booth informed her. Brennan gave him a look before rummaging around in her purse, giving him a clearer view of her cleavage. He shifted, wondering why Brennan had suddenly decided to incorporate plunging V necklines into her wardrobe.

_Probably to torture me. If it was anyone else but Bones, I'd consider it a form of psychological warfare._

'Why would they name the pig that?' Brennan's question made him blink.

'It's a kid's movie. Logic doesn't really apply,' Booth said dismissively. 'So Angela wants you to save a pig?'

'Yes. I told her no.'

_Uh oh._

When Booth didn't offer anything in response, Brennan continued. 'She then asked me why we were even friends.'

_Shit._

'C'mon Bones. I'm sure she's just angry because you didn't contribute towards her Save A Bacon foundation. She'll come around.'

'You don't understand.' The plaintive quality in her voice made Booth slant his eyes over towards her. Her eyes were slightly glassy in the window and there were the beginnings of a frown on her forehead. 'This is _Angela_. She's never been this angry before. She's barely speaking to me.'

She had lapsed into silence after that and Booth had struggled for some way to make her feel better. He had told her that everything would work out over time, that Angela and her had too much between them to let Porky Pig become something insurmountable.

A few days passed and Brennan didn't mention anything else about Angela. She continued to wear those low-cut dresses and shirts, and threw herself completely into the case. Booth had swung by the Jeffersonian to pick his partner up for a late dinner when he had heard the raised voices. Identifying them as female, he ran a hand over his face and debated whether or not to put another step forward.

'How could you Angela?' Brennan's question cracked across the empty forensic platform like a jackhammer.

'I can kiss whoever I want Brennan.' Booth winced at Angela's choice of name for her best friend.

'Mr Bray is my _intern_. Not only is it highly unprofessional-'

'God do you have to make it sound so dirty?'

'What about Hodgins? Has he even factored into your little scenario? How do you think it would make him feel to see someone he considers a good friend consorting with the woman he loves?'

'Jack doesn't love me,' Angela's tone was flat.

'You can't really believe that,' Brennan's reply was the same.

'I'm sorry if I don't feel the need to rationalize my emotions away. Not all of us can live like that.' It was a low blow, and Booth was sure Angela knew it too. 'Excuse me Dr Brennan. I have work to do.'

Booth saw Angela's curly hair flounce as she practically stormed back towards the Angelator, the door to Brennan's office closing with a sharp bang. Booth thanked all that was good and holy that she hadn't seen her there. Hesitantly, he ventured towards Brennan's sanctuary. The blinds were closed and he heard the distinct sounds of muffled sobs that made his chest constrict.

Locking the door softly behind him, he tried to push away the hurt when Brennan said that she wanted to be alone. The sight of her red cheeks and puffy eyes made that option improbable.

He didn't say a word, simply sat himself down next to her and touched her shoulder ever so slightly. The barest whisper of his fingers brushing against her collarbone. The next thing he knew, her face was pressed against the lapels of his jacket and he was smoothing her hair against the back of her head. Booth whispered nothings into her ear, things that he doubted she heard or would even acknowledge.

'What do I do Booth?' She whispered, her voice coated with the tears that now stained her face. She fingered his tie lightly and he left his hand tangled in the silk of her auburn roots.

'I would die for you Temperance.' Taking in the startled set of her eyes at his words, Booth softened his gaze to temper the truth behind them. 'But this is something that I can't fix for you.'

'All this because of a pig,' she murmured sardonically. 'This is why I became a vegetarian.' Her joke was weak but he afforded her a chuckle that earned him a sloppy half-smile.

They wrapped the case up. The Founding Fathers was crowded and Booth claimed them a spot at the bar, twirling around the merlot Brennan had pressed into his hands and wondering whether his brain really was okay.

'There's nothing wrong with you.' Sometimes it still amazed him how well she could read him, though other times he wished that Brennan wasn't that perceptive. The turmoil within about his feelings for her continued to roil and toss around like a violent storm, his heart the ship that couldn't help being pounded mercilessly on all sides.

'I should have _known _the guy was lying Bones. That's my job. That's why I'm good at it.' Booth stared into the burgundy depths of his glass, his gaze flickering towards the other members of the squint squad when Cam let out a laugh. He noticed Angela keep shooting what she must have thought were covert glances towards Brennan. Booth caught her eye and the forensic artist gave him an inscrutable look before turning back towards Wendell.

Her hand come over his and gave a slight squeeze. 'There's no one I would trust more to do what we do Booth. And considering my intellect and expertise, I wouldn't consider anyone who fell below such standards an adequate partner.'

'There's a compliment buried somewhere in there, right?'

Brennan gave him an odd look. 'Of course.'

Booth chuckled, turning over her hand and noticing how well it fit in his. 'Thanks Bones.'

'I trust you with my life Booth.' He could hear what she didn't say – _I would die for you too_. That thought scared him and thrilled him at the same time. Angela was edging her way towards them and Booth jerked his head her way. Brennan followed his line of sight and seemed to stiffen. Booth brushed his thigh casually against hers and thought her shoulders relaxed fractionally.

'Miss Montenegro,' there was no mistaking the frosty edge in Brennan's tone.

'Hey. Could I talk to you?' Angela seemed nervous and unsure, a first in Booth's eyes. The FBI agent had thought that the self belief both women exhibited had been one of the main reasons why two people with such diametrically opposed personalities could maintain a friendship. It wasn't supposed to work, but for some reason it did.

_Just like the both of you, huh Ranger?_

'Go on,' Booth encouraged, gently nudging her knee. Brennan slid her gaze over to him before sighing and shoving her purse towards him. Peering cautiously at the black sequined bag, Booth resisted the urge to glare when the bartender sent him an amused smirk. Booth refocused his attention towards the other end of the bar, noticing that Hodgins was still joking around with Wendell while Cam shot them both wary looks.

_I sure as hell don't want to be anywhere near that when the shit hits the fan._

Booth felt for Hodgins. It must suck being so close to the woman you loved and not being able to do anything about it. Almost as if they had a mind of their own, his eyes swept over to Brennan and found her weaving her way back towards him as Angela wandered over back to her place beside Wendell.

'So?' He asked, pushing the purse back her way.

'She apologized. I reciprocated. I think…I think we're okay.' Brennan was opening the catch of her bag, pulling out a chequebook. She chewed her lip and flipped it open, the fountain pen she insisted on carrying gliding across the paper. Booth smiled.

'I'll be right back,' she told him. Brennan handed over the cheque to her best friend and Booth saw the wondrous smile stretch across Angela's face. The hug that the forensic artist gave Brennan was somewhat stilted, but Booth saw the way Brennan's features lost some of the tenseness that had been pinching her eyes and mouth.

'You ready to go?' Booth asked when she came back, eyeing her empty glass as he swallowed the last of his wine. Brennan nodded. Booth smoothly helped her with her coat, hands lingering on her shoulder before slipping away. Brennan passed her eyes over Angela one last time before following him out the door.

She squeezed his arm.

_Thank you._

Booth admired the way the streetlights cast a luminescent glow over her head, making the red looking like the beginnings of a twilight streaked through with gold.

_You're welcome_, the turn of his lips said.

If Angela and Brennan could make it work, Booth thought, there wasn't a reason why the two of them couldn't either.


	19. Chapter 19

**a/n: my Bones muse is back.**

Sometimes loving someone means letting them go.

It had been a phrase Brennan had heard often during her life. Words whispered by friends and colleagues who would give her a smile riddled with sadness and pain. Brennan would look at them and wonder how they could willingly put themselves through such torment for a mere person, a transient relationship that was ephemeral and intangible at best.

But like many things in the past five years, Seeley Booth had taught her something new and twisted her beliefs on their head. Sitting here across from him, sipping on a beer and pretending to be happy that he had Catherine in his life felt like having her heart ripped out and stabbed with one of those metal stars that had hung suspended from the ceiling of her high school reunion.

_You're doing this to protect him._

_Sweetie, we both know that you're too smart for that._

Cringing, Brennan squeezed her eyes shut and rapped smartly on the door. The floor was spinning around behind her lids and she placed a hand on the wall to steady herself. In a rare ironic homage to her relationship with Booth, she had nursed a bottle of tequila until the pain had receded to a mere dull throb. A pain, she felt, that she could compartmentalize. Feeling her stomach lurch, she pounded her knuckles against the door with a renewed sense of urgency.

'I'm coming! Jeez!'

Her response was to knock, the rapid staccato tattoo making her giggle for some reason. Her fist fell away when a man opened the door, his dark blonde hair sticking up on one side and his Ohio State shirt and boxes slightly rumpled. Brennan watched as his green eyes widened, seeing her standing there, swaying slightly from side to side.

'_Tempe_?'

'Good. I was afraid that you wouldn't be home,' Brennan told him, sweeping past him into the living room. She kicked off her shoes carelessly, sighing as her feet slapped against the wooden floors. The cold night air made her curl her toes as she stumbled towards the couch. It was only when she felt the rough cotton against her cheek did she sit up abruptly and turn towards the man.

'Do you have a woman currently awaiting sexual intercourse in your room Tony?' Brennan asked, her gaze fixed unflinchingly on the man as he stared at her before cracking a grin.

'Not right now. But maybe you'd like to make that a possibility,' he suggested lightly and Brennan giggled, clapping a hand over her mouth.

'You're propositioning me?' She laughed. Tony pouted and rubbed a hand over his jaw.

'Way to kick a guy when he's down Tee.'

Brennan studied Tony, taking in the tired droop of his eyes and the lines that always seemed to be gathered around his mouth and gaze whenever she spoke to him. Their friendship had been something unexpected she mused, because Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo wasn't someone she had ever anticipated forming a meaningful bond with. He was childish, spouted off far too much movie trivia and seemed to indulge in a take on life that often left others wondering if he _ever _took anything seriously. But Brennan had been there to see the mask break and crack and splinter. When Ziva had stayed in Israel, the chinks in Tony's armour had never been more pronounced.

Brennan hadn't spoken to Tony in days, which was nothing unusual. Their work made it difficult for them to find time but when they did, both of them relished in the opportunity to do so. But then he had showed up at her door, face even and mouth pressed tight, the night the NCIS team had arrived back from Tel Aviv. She knew that he didn't want to discuss what had happened so she had slipped towards the kitchen and grabbed the bottle of Johnny Walker Blue Hodgins had given her a few months back. Pouring the liquid into the glass tumblers, Brennan had been content to sip leisurely at her drink while Tony had spun the container in his hand, watching mesmerized as the light caught on the glass and refracted into broken shards of light.

'I thought she would stay, you know?' Was all Tony had offered before Brennan had gently pried the glass out of his hands, heart squeezing as she took in the utter devastation clearly written across his features. For someone who never wore their heart on their sleeve, seeing Tony let his carefully constructed charade fall so easily had been terrifying. Brennan had pressed a kiss to his forehead after leaving him on the couch, arriving the next morning to see the words _Thank You _scrawled across a piece of paper.

She imagined that the same feeling of déjà vu was creeping over Tony's skin as well.

'Booth's happy,' Brennan heard herself say out loud and shook her head, dragging herself out of her memories. Tony was looking at her thoughtfully.

'That's a good thing right?' He finally said cautiously.

'Of course. If there's anyone who deserves to be happy, it's Booth. Because he's a good man and a good father and he _deserves _happiness,' Brennan rambled, fingers digging into the underside of the couch.

'But…'

'There is no but,' she denied flatly because Brennan knew there couldn't be any doubt where her position with Booth was concerned. She heard Tony exhale and glanced over towards him expectantly.

'Temperance, you're drunk. Let's get you in bed before-' Tony climbed to his feet but something made her grab his arm, curl her fingers around his tan skin and feel the beat of his pulse against the delicate skin of his wrist.

'Tony, _please_.' Her tone was plaintive, pleading and if she were sober, Brennan knew she would have cringed. But parts of her were at sea, adrift and aimlessly floating around waiting for something to anchor on. Telling Booth that she wasn't ready to take that gamble had been the right thing to do but hearing him give up so easily, telling her that he needed to move on, _watching _as he moved on…Brennan could feel the last shreds of her self-control snap and blow away with the night wind. Looking up into the eyes of the man, someone who could understand and feel what was mirrored in her cerulean depths, Brennan thought that maybe she had found an anchor.

Because, she considered, Tony DiNozzo could prove to be her salvation.

'How can I make this easier?' She whispered. She felt warm hands tug her own into their grasp, Tony crouching down to bring his face level with hers.

'It doesn't get any easier.'

'That isn't what you're supposed to say. I've been told that if your inebriated, vulnerable friend comes to you, you're supposed to make them feel better by agreeing with them,' she explained and felt her eyes burn.

'Well my inebriated, vulnerable and _beautiful _friend isn't going to remember a word of this tomorrow.'

'I possess an exceptional memory,' she thought she should remind him. The pad of his thumb traced across her cheek and Brennan was startled to realize that she was crying.

'Yeah,' Tony laughed and the sound made her smile.

'You should laugh more. You deserve to be happy too,' Brennan informed him, trying to remember the last time she had heard Tony genuinely laugh at anything. Tony brought his thumb up to stroke the hollow of her cheek.

'And what do you deserve?' The question caught her off guard and for a moment the two of them stared, Tony waiting and Brennan contemplating.

'I already have what I deserve.'

_A father and brother who are hardly around. A man who loves me who I can't be with. _

'The problem with the both of us Tee, is that we settle for less than we ought to have.'

Brennan wrinkled her nose. 'I don't know what that means.'

Tony chuckled softly and gently hauled her to her feet. 'Did you find your way into a liquor store or something? Because the eau de parfume I'm getting isn't the usual Chanel No 5 you wear.'

'I did find a liquor store,' Brennan agreed, allowing Tony to bear her weight as they moved towards what she thought was his room. 'And then I drank it. It was quite liberating.'

'You're not going to feel quite so thankful in the morning,' Tony assured her.

'No, I don't think so either,' she murmured before succumbing to the darkness creeping around the edge of her vision. The last thing she felt was Tony's hand around her waist.

The last thing she saw was Booth's face after she told him no.


	20. Chapter 20

Booth lingered by the platform patiently, glancing at the clock and trying to quell the frown that decorated his brow. Where was she? It was almost quarter past nine and Booth had never known Brennan to be late to _anything_.

'She's still not here?' Angela's voice made him blink. Her curled brown hair fell over her shoulder as she grasped a clipboard to her chest. Booth ran his fingers down the silk of his tie and regretted it almost immediately when the forensic artist raised an eyebrow.

'Gift?'

'Yeah,' Booth told himself there was no reason to feel guilty because there was _nothing _to feel guilty _of_. 'Catharine gave it to me.'

Angela hummed under her breath, casting her eyes towards the entrance to the lab. 'Dolphins huh?'

'It's just a tie,' he shot back defensively, wondering if he had imagined the faint note of accusation buried beneath Angela's words. Angela opened her mouth as if to say something but Booth watched as her eyes narrowed before widening in surprise. Twisting around, Booth saw Brenna walk in with a pair of sunglasses wrapped around her face. Brennan's steps faltered when she caught sight of the both of them, her gaze meeting Booth's before it shifted away.

'You alright there Bones?' He asked, keeping his tone deliberately light. Brennan winced and this time Angela smirked.

'Sweetie, are you hungover?'

'You're _drunk_?' Booth couldn't help but exclaim. When he'd left her at the Founding Fathers, she'd been nursing her only glass of wine. The liquid had swirled around the glass like thick blood, painting the clear glass red before sliding down. She had been staring at it in rapt fascination as Booth had mentioned his date with Catharine, only glancing up to meet his eyes briefly as she told him that she was happy he was moving on. He had wanted to feel angry with her, to pound his fists against the table for the defeat colouring her words. But instead he had mumbled a quick goodbye, something inside his chest squeezing when he'd taken in the heavy slump of her shoulders under the muted yellow light.

'Is there a case?' Brennan replied, answering neither of their questions. She sipped at the coffee cup in her hand, recoiling with distaste at the taste. 'This hardly qualifies as coffee.'

'Some guy got totaled by a washing machine,' Booth told her, falling into step beside Brennan as she made her way towards her office.

'Give me a few minutes. I need to change,' she pulled at the blouse she had on with a grimace and it was only then that Booth realized she was wearing the same clothes as yesterday.

'Yeah, I'll be out front,' he spat out.

_She spent the night with Hacker_.

The thought taunted him and Booth clenched his fists, telling himself he had no right to be disappointed or upset. After all, she had made it pretty clear that night that they couldn't ever be together. Her cerulean eyes had been glassy and she'd clutched at his arms tightly, Booth listening as she told him how she couldn't ever change. It was the hard set of her shoulders, the resolute and almost desperate way of how she'd told him _no _that had broken the last of Booth's resolve.

_What was the point of fighting for someone who didn't want to be fought for?_

But because she was Brennan, because she was still the woman consuming his heart, he'd agreed to remaining partners. Booth knew that the job was the only thing keeping her in his life and he may have given up on them being together, but a large part of him wanted to make sure she couldn't just cut him out of her life completely. Despite it all, Booth thought sourly as he shoved his hands into his pockets and walked away, he still _needed _her.

And a part of him was always going to hate her for it.

If there was one thing Booth had learnt about compartmentalization, it was that it had to be done well. Despite everything that had happened between them, Brennan could still read him like a book. But then again so could he.

Booth didn't miss the way Brennan kept bringing up Catharine. At first she had commented on the tie.

'Anthropologically speaking, a gift is a social contract,' she'd told him, eyes lighting up so much so that it almost gave Booth pause.

'It is?' He'd replied dumbly, looking down at the dancing mammals on the tie.

'Yes it establishes a form of mutual reciprocation in social relationships,' Brennan had continued, flashing him a tight smile. 'I'm glad she picked dolphins. As you know, I have quite an affinity for them.'

The guilt that had crashed over him after her words only allowed him to nod mutely, watching as Brennan's gaze lingered on the tie before the professional demeanour she wore so well took over.

They worked the case the way they always did. Easy banter, sometimes serious moments that made Booth's breath catch in his throat. It was only after they had settled into their obligatory post-case drink that the tension both tried hard to avoid found them again. Booth fiddled with the neck of his beer bottle, taking another pull when he saw Brennan lick her lips.

'How was your date with Catharine?' She asked and Booth felt his spine stiffen.

'It was good,' he answered cautiously. The dark-haired marine biologist with the piercing blue eyes had been uncomplicated, simple. There wasn't any baggage weighing down their feet and Booth had let himself enjoy her company, the way she would smile seductively over at him and run her fingers through her hair deliberately.

He had still only pressed a kiss to her cheek though, her hair flashing auburn throughout the night.

'How was your date with Hacker?' He managed to choke out. Something flickered behind Brennan's eyes as she readjusted her long legs, the tips of her boots brushing against his shins.

'I'm not seeing Hacker anymore.'

Booth almost spit out his beer at her words.

'What?' He questioned, almost desperately. He'd said yes to Catharine because she had Hacker. They were _both _moving on.

'Andrew and I both agreed that we were better as friends,' she informed him, lips curled up at the ends. 'I haven't seen him socially since the aquarium.'

'But then this morning-' He bit off his words, jaw snapping shut as Brennan narrowed her eyes before smoothing her features over.

'I didn't sleep with Andrew Booth. I never have.' He was sure it was meant as a barb, a slight against his opinion of her.

'I just thought, you know…' He trailed off uncomfortably.

'The decisions I make about my personal life shouldn't affect your own,' she interjected forcefully, abruptly placing her wine glass on the table. 'You deserve to be happy Booth and if Catharine makes you happy, then I'm happy for the both of you.' She told him this with a muted smile and Booth swallowed, seeing the regret and resignation tainting the small curve of her lips.

'You deserve to be happy too,' he said softly, focusing his gaze on the label peeling off his bottle.

'So I've been told,' she replies absently, eyes sliding out of focus.

_If she wasn't with Hacker, where the hell was she last night?_

Her phone ringing shatters whatever it was between them and Booth noticed the surprise that came over her face when she glanced down at the screen. Pressing send, she gave him an apologetic look before speaking.

'Brennan.' A quick glimpse at her watch, her brow furrowing as she bites her bottom lip. 'Are you sure? It's no problem for me to come –' A roll of the eyes. 'Don't be ridiculous Anthony. I'll be there soon.'

'Anthony huh?' Booth asked and Brennan starts, as if suddenly realizing he was there.

'Oh, yes. I'm sorry Booth but I need to go,' she told him somewhat dismissively, already reaching for her purse and coat as she climbs to her feet. Booth knew he had no right to hold her back so he pulled out his wallet, dropping enough on the table to cover the tab.

'I'll see you tomorrow?' Booth has made a habit of asking her each night, if only to assuage his mind. Perhaps she picked up the worry underlying his tone because Brennan paused inches away from him, fingers brushing against the back of his hand.

'You know that our partnership is still important to me.' It isn't phrased as a question and Booth forced a sloppy grin, curling his hand around hers for a brief moment. Like many things between them, she understood without him needing to say a word.

He took in the gentle curve of her waist and the brush of her hair against her cheek as she stepped out of the bar, giving him a quick wave before disappearing outside.

'I'd die for you too,' he whispered before pulling his jacket tight around his shoulders, wondering if perhaps she needed to know that too.


	21. Chapter 21

**This takes place in Season 6 from here on out, and Season 8 for NCIS.**

Booth had moved on. Of course Brennan understood that logic entailed that he seek out a mate that was compatible with him, that could give him what he desired.

A woman who could give him everything that she never could.

So it was completely irrational for her to feel that twinge of pain in her chest when Booth had showed her a picture of Hannah, with her flowing blonde hair and bright blue eyes. It seemed that Booth had reverted back to type, she thought with a bitter twang, but Brennan knew that hating Booth wasn't the cause of her current malaise.

'Looks like you started the party without me,' Tony's voice echoed behind her and Brennan twisted around to regard him with a smile. It was a smile that she had spent the majority of the case scrounging up from somewhere deep inside her, a smile that had only been genuine when Angela had told her about being pregnant.

'Scotch on the rocks,' he told the bartender, glancing around the Founding Fathers with interest. 'So this is where you go to unwind? Didn't think it'd be your kind of…ambience.'

'Booth and the rest like it,' Brennan replied simply, lifting a shoulder sluggishly. She sipped at the red wine deeply, feeling the liquid burn down her throat. If she closed her eyes for a moment, she could pretend she was back in the forest away from civilization.

Away from people.

'Why so serious?' Tony questioned, grinning slightly. His lips faltered however when she didn't answer, taking in the hunched shoulders and pursed mouth of the woman beside him. Brennan felt him nudge her shoulder gently, the gesture feeling like a question.

'Do you think it was selfish of me to leave?' She finally blurted out, feeling the harsh slap of Cam's words anew. Brennan had never thought her taking the position would have such a detrimental effect on a foundation she had considered too solid to crumble, people who had been through too much together to let the slip of time drive them apart.

'You want the truth?'

Brennan gave him a look and wasn't surprised to see Tony chuckle wryly.

'You know why you left right?'

'Of course. Being offered the chance to discover the first true signs of-'

'No, not that,' Tony waved away her explanation. 'The _real _reason.'

'I don't understand.'

Tony rolled his eyes and Brennan felt herself bristle in response.

'I was pissed as all hell when Gibbs hauled his ass over to Mexico, tried to pretend that he wasn't an NCIS agent. Just vanished without a word,' Tony said, running a finger over the rim of his glass tumbler.

'That was different,' Brennan protested. 'Our situations were entirely-'

'The thing is the both of you ran away,' Tony interrupted, looking her dead in the eye. 'You ran away Tempe. Don't even try to deny it. You wanted to escape the blood, the guts, the gore. You told yourself it was becoming too much. So Maluku came along and you jumped on that row boat without a second thought.'

'It _was _becoming too much,' Brennan countered, remembering the weight that had pressed down on her the weeks leading up to her decision. The neverending carousel of murders that would come through the Jeffersonian, the way Booth would sometimes look at her as if he couldn't quote decide whether he wanted to be around her any longer.

'It was Booth, wasn't it. You needed your own headspace to figure him out,' Tony said, only this time his words were gentle, too knowing. Brennan angled her face away from him.

'He's found someone. Someone who makes him happy,' she whispered and she heard Tony inhale sharply, felt a warm press on her shoulder. 'And he deserves to be happy with Hannah. If anyone deserves to be happy, it's Booth,' she repeated the words she had uttered in Tony's living room all those months ago.

'Yeah well, Ziva managed to find herself a friend in Miami,' Tony remarked caustically before finishing off the finger of amber liquid left in his glass. Brennan watched as he signaled for another, wondering whether she should reach over and squeeze his shoulder the same way he had done.

'It seems our situations have remained remarkably the same, considering the passage of seven months,' Brennan observed. Tony snorted rather inelegantly in response.

'Everything's changing,' she said rather distantly. Hodgins and Angela were having a child, getting ready to raise a family. Cam had a teenage daughter and was apparently involved with Michelle's OB/GYN. Wendell was fixing school buses instead of devoting himself to what he loved because she had left without a thought. Sweets had attempted to grow facial hair and suffered heartbreak because of Daisy's desire to follow her to Maluku.

And Booth had walked into a warzone, something she had never thought he would do again, simply because she wouldn't be around. It was rather conceited of her to think that he had accepted the post in Afghanistan because of her, but Brennan thought that at least her selfishness had managed to make at least one of them happy.

'Change kind of sucks,' Tony's voice pulled her from her thoughts.

'I dislike change.'

'I figured,' Tony replied, quirking his lips into a smirk. 'People change and forget to tell each other.'

Brennan curved her mouth, recognizing the quote. 'Growth is a painful process.'

'I can drink to that,' Tony raised his glass, Brennan clinking her flute against it.

'Hannah huh?'

'Yes,' Brennan answered. 'She's beautiful and apparently as serious as a heart attack.'

'Did you find what you were looking for in Maluku?'

Brennan remembered the dreams she'd had of her and Booth, shades of things that could have been. The two of them curled up on her couch, his hand running through her hair as he watched a hockey game while she read a book. It was domestic, comforting.

Now nothing but a fantasy.

'I thought I did,' she said. 'But it seems I was mistaken.'

_Booth had replaced her because she was selfish. Booth had found someone better._

Brennan felt fingers trace the lobe of her ear and pressed down the urge to shiver. Green instead of brown eyes regarded her intently, as if he could see down to the very depths of her soul.

'What are you doing?' She said, so softly that she thought her words were lost in the noise of the bar.

'Something I've always wondered about,' was all he said before he pressed his lips against hers. It wasn't hard, demanding. It wasn't two people forced to do something under a mistletoe for five steamboats. This kiss was soft, sweet, as if he was afraid she would pull away.

Brennan felt her fingers reach up to splay across his cheek, felt his breath fan across her face as he pressed his forehead against hers.

'Are you going to break one or more of my bones now?' Tony joked and Brennan shook her head.

'That was…'

'Yeah,' Tony replied. Brennan had never noticed just how _green _his eyes really were.

'Do you wonder about kissing me a lot?' She wondered and Tony simply smiled cryptically. She wanted to ask what this meant, what this would mean.

'You want another drink?' Tony asked and Brennan nodded, felt his shoulders brush against hers when they separated.

When they left and she felt herself looping her arms around Tony's neck, slowly melting under the softness of his touch, Ralph Waldo Emerson flashed through her mind.

_For everything you have missed, you have gained something else, and for everything you gain, you lose something else._


	22. Chapter 22

Brennan thought that moving on would be hard. Seeing Booth with Hannah still made her chest squeeze but for some reason, the world seemed less lonely than it did before. The life she expected to lead had been sent into upheaval once before by an FBI agent with broad shoulders and broad ideals. Now, it seemed, Uncle Sam had delivered her another man determined to rewrite her way of thinking.

Anthony DiNozzo had always been an attractive man. Brennan couldn't deny that she hadn't felt a flash of heat in her belly when she had first been introduced to the Italian. With his forest green eyes, dark blonde hair and dapper suits Brennan had initially dismissed Tony from her mind. That was before she had seen him smile. The way his face would crease and light up whenever he laughed or spoke to her had made her feel welcomed, as strange as it sounded. Over time Brennan found herself glimpsing deeper into the façade Tony erected around himself to see the same loneliness reflected in her mirror each morning. Misery loved company, and their friendship had withstood death and tears to become something Brennan cherished deeply.

Now, though, she wasn't quite sure what they were.

After that night at the Founding Fathers, there was a deeper level of intimacy between them. Brennan wasn't quite sure when Tony had become her watchtower, but she didn't find it as frightening as she thought it would be to entrust the darker side of herself to this man.

_Something I've always wondered about._

Even now Tony's words gave her pause. It made every flight instinct she had flare up, the whispers in her voice claiming that he would just leave her too when Ziva looked his way at the right moment. Booth had said he wanted to be with her, told her he wanted to grow old with her, before promptly deciding to revert back to type. She just hoped that Tony wouldn't do the same, knowing what he did about the state of her heart.

_This is ridiculous. I'm Dr Temperance Brennan. Relationships are transient and…_

She couldn't even finish the thought, swallowed unsteadily. Watching Booth with Hannah, observing how happy Angela was with Hodgins…weren't these proof enough that not every tie between a man and a woman was founded on sex and basic human urges?

Brennan remembered Hannah hesitating at her office door last week. Forcing a hesitant smile, wary of the welcoming demeanour of the woman seated across from her, Brennan couldn't help herself from feeling a small sense of satisfaction when Hannah expressed surprise at her depth of knowledge on all things Booth. That satisfaction had quickly faded when Booth had thanked _her_, not Brennan, for the dial phone. It was then that Brennan realized she wasn't part of a duo anymore. There was another person more important than her in Booth's life and it was time for her to start realizing that too.

It was time for her to fill the hole in her heart with someone who genuinely wanted _her_.

'You're not listening to me at all, are you?' Tony's amused voice interrupted her thoughts.

Shaking her head, Brennan cradled her chin and tapped her fingers against her cheek. 'I apologize. I'm just contemplating an offer I received.'

'Oh?'

'Have you heard of Dr Bunsen Jude?'

'The Science Dude? Who hasn't? Man, I love that show.'

'It seems _everyone _but me has heard of him,' Brennan remarked wryly, eliciting a chuckle from Tony.

'Hey I told you to get that flat screen and got a lecture on…something,' Tony answered and she could picture him twirling his fingers around in the air.

'Well he's requested me to come on his show-'

'You said yes right?'

'I fail to see the point Tony. I'm a scientist interested in facts and-'

She heard something squeak before Tony spoke. 'Oh c'mon! You get to be on _TV_! Might I remind you that I was unceremoniously dumped from the front page of the NCIS recruitment drive?'

'Are you still upset about that?' Brennan asked, furrowing her brow.

'You'll be great. Kids love you.'

Brennan chewed her bottom lip. 'I'm not very good with connecting.'

A heavy sigh. 'You don't give yourself enough credit.'

'I mentioned it to Booth and he appeared nervous about the offer.'

There was a pregnant pause before Tony spoke again. 'Well then he doesn't know the same woman I do. Have some fun. If there's anyone who can make science cool, shouldn't it be the best forensic anthropologist this side of the hemisphere? Didn't Booth's son say you were the best teacher in the world?'

'I don't know…'

'You're doing it. I'll help pick out your costume. I'm thinking foam hands and black heels,' Tony stated. A sharp voice echoed in the background. 'That was Gibbs. I'll come by later, alright? Pick up some of that Thai you like.'

'I do like Thai,' she smiled. Tony laughed before hanging up.

When she told Booth about her decision, he looked shocked. She tried to pretend that didn't hurt. Was it really so inconceivable that she would accede to such a request? Booth jokingly told her not to explain human dissection to the kids and Brennan laughed along with him, turning her eyes away.

She didn't find that funny at all.

Dinner later that night with Tony was, well, _fun_. There were small touches between bites and laughter. One time he rubbed some sauce away from the corner of her mouth and Brennan thought her breath hitched abruptly. His eyes had darkened to a dark hazel and he had let his thumb linger on her lip before brandishing the skeleton leotard and red tutu Abby had foisted upon him earlier.

Listening to Tony tell her how great she was going to be, Brennan couldn't help but compare his reaction to Booth's. She showed her gratitude when he kissed at the door, gripping his lapels and tugging him closer. Tony smirked, as if reading her mind, and brushed his knuckles against her cheek after promising to be at the Jeffersonian for the taping.

The day of the shooting Brennan felt her stomach lurch and her body thrum with nervous energy. This lessened somewhat when she received a life-size cutout of Tony's photo shoot reject, his brow furrowed as he looked back at her seriously. The tiny note attached to it told her to put this in her dressing room for company. Not for luck, it reiterated, because he already knew she was going to blow everyone away. It made her smile, one that lasted throughout the day.

She never saw Booth crease his forehead and steal covert looks when she wasn't looking, wondering what had made her so happy.

When she came out on the stage to the sound of enthusiastic childish cheers, it was hard not to miss Tony's catcalls and sharp whistles of appreciation. Brennan couldn't help but grin when she caught sight of his clothes, remembering the outfit from a movie he had made her watch a few nights ago.

After the taping, after she had shook hands and signed a few autographs, Brennan made her way over towards Tony. Angela was fingering his white vest with an eyebrow raised, while Hodgins snickered behind his hand. Booth had his hands in his pockets, eyes flickering from her to the Italian.

'You came,' Brennan breathed, still giddy from the adrenaline.

'Like I was going to miss this for the world.'

'You didn't have to wear that,' she commented lightly, trailing a finger down his chest. Tony gave her a half-smile and clasped her fingers in her warm hand.

'Don't worry. I told McGee we were role-playing,' Tony replied, waggling his eyebrows comically. Booth cleared his throat and Brennan blinked, spotting the meaningful look on her partner.

'Oh Tony, this is my partner Seeley Booth. Booth this is Anthony DiNozzo. He works for NCIS.'

Tony kept hold of her hand, using the other to shake the one Booth offered.

'Didn't I say you would kill it?' Tony puffed out his chest.

'Calm down handsome,' Angela rolled her eyes before flashing them towards her best friend. 'So, you and Brennan have something you want to share with the rest of the class?'

'Yeah Bones,' Booth chipped in, tone deceptively light. Brennan felt herself tense. Was he…was he _upset_?

'Well Professor,' Tony said to Angela, 'I'm about to steal away your prize student.'

'Really Tony, we both know out of the both of us I'm the one with the three PhDs.'

'Ahh there's that modesty we've been waiting for,' Booth chuckled at her side.

'I don't know about that. I think there's still a few things this DiNozzo can teach you,' Tony replied and was it her imagination or did his voice get a bit more husky?

'Just let me get out of this costume-'

'Nope,' Tony popped the word. 'It stays on.'

'If you intend to take me out to dinner-'

'We'll eat at your place,' Tony interrupted, already tugging on her hand. 'I've got something for you back there.'

'How did you get into my apartment?' Brennan demanded, looking back over her shoulder at her friends. The squints and Cam looked amused. Booth…Brennan couldn't place the expression on his face.

'Spare key,' he whispered into her ear and Brennan shivered, dragging her attention towards the man pressed up against her side.

'Besides it's to celebrate the woman I always knew was in there, but was too afraid to show herself.'

Tony pressed a kiss to her temple and Brennan closed her eyes.

_I chose and my world was shaken. So what? The choice may have been mistaken; the choosing was not. You have to move on._


	23. QLD Flood Appeal Fic Auction

Hey guys!

I live in Brisbane and if you've seen the news recently, an area the size of France and Germany combined has now been declared a disaster zone. I've decided to sign up to a fic auction that raises funds for the Queensland Relief Fund so if you're interested in bidding, please head over to and make a bid for me (look for aswordsworth or alien09)!

waltzmatildah(dot)livejournal(dot)com(forwardslash)67134(dot)html?view=1419070#t1419070

I'm taking requests for Puckleberry for Glee; Tyler/Caroline for Vampire Diaries and Chlollie for Smallville.

If you guys could spread the word, would be much appreciated!


	24. Chapter 24

Booth watched the slight tightening of Brennan's jaw when she caught sight of the crutch tucked under his armpit, the sling cradling one of his arms securely.

'You should have waited for me,' she told him evenly, her voice betraying nothing. Booth looked at her, flinched inside when her eyes remained shuttered. At night when he closed his own he would hear her sobbing beside him, those cerulean orbs squeezed tightly shut as tears streaked down her cheeks.

'**I don't want to have any regrets Booth.'**

'**I'm with Hannah Bones. And…you're with Tony,' he choked out, the last word bitter on his tongue. She broke, he cried, and he told himself to watch her. His hands gripped the steering wheel so he wouldn't reach out and wipe the agony from her face. Agony he had caused.**

'**I want to go home,' she had whispered harshly and Booth had nodded, unable to say a word. He didn't say anything either when she repeated Tony's address from memory, bit his cheek when he saw the Italian waiting for her at the bottom of his walk-up.**

_**You love Hannah Seeley Booth. **_

Even if the words sounded hollow, it was all he had to cling onto. Because he had told her to he had to move on and Hannah wasn't a consolation prize. She was smart, ambitious and Parker liked her. At night she would laugh and tease, cook dinner and share some beer with him while grumbling about the corrupt corridors of Washington. It made him forget the demons churning around inside him, demons he still wasn't sure he wanted to share with Hannah.

Booth wasn't sure she would understand as much as Temperance Brennan ever could.

'Well Booth, I'm just glad you're alright,' Max said and patted Booth solidly on his injured shoulder. Booth didn't wince, thought he knew why the older man had been less than friendly with him since arriving back in DC.

'I did think this could have been you,' Caroline looked at Max, grabbing her briefcase as she got to her feet. Max shrugged carelessly.

'Well, it's nice to know I'm still suspected. I appreciate that. Thank you.'

'Uh huh,' Caroline replied, sounding unconvinced. 'Take care of yourself _cherie_. All of you,' Caroline added meaningfully with a sharp glance at Brennan.

'Of course Caroline,' Brennan answered with a tight smile. Max looked like he wanted to say something but decided to hold his tongue instead.

'Are you sure you're alright?' Brennan asked him once again and Booth felt something warm spread through his chest at her concern.

'Don't worry Bones. I'm good.' He returned her gaze, searching for something that he felt hadn't been there since he returned.

'Sweetheart, I think there's someone here for you,' Max said, sounding positively delighted. Booth flicked his eyes over Brennan's shoulder to see Tony unwrapping his scarf from around his neck, smiling when he spotted his partner at the table.

'I'll be just a minute,' Brennan murmured, her lips stretched widely across her face. Booth felt his heart lurch when she clasped his hand, dragged him outside the diner.

'So my daughter tells me you have a new girlfriend?' Max's voice was deceptively casual but Booth felt his hackles rise defensively at the censure in the older man's tone.

'Yeah. Met her over in Afghanistan.'

'That's wonderful,' Max flashed him a thin-lipped smile. 'I'm glad for you.'

'Yeah, Bones seems to like her too,' Booth said and Max raised an eyebrow, humming an agreement. Through the blinds Booth watched as Tony pressed something into Brennan's hand. It looked like a large shell, thin spikes protruding from the top in a line. Brennan looked in awe at the gift, cast that feeling up towards Tony through her lashes. He recalled seeing that same wonder in her face when he had presented her with Jasper.

'Well I'm glad my Tempe has found some happiness of her own,' Max observed with a soft smile, following Booth's line of sight. 'Tony makes her happy. Also makes a good lagsagna.'

'Oh…you had dinner with them?' Booth asked, feeling his gut clench at the thought of Brennan and Tony feeding each other in the kitchen. It was a domestic scene that had been played out throughout the years of their partnership; something Booth had thought would always remain between them.

_Yeah. Because you don't do the same thing with Hannah?_

'Sure. Any man who can make my daughter smile like that deserves some time with her father. After all, it was her idea.' Booth thought the words seemed pointed.

'That's…good,' Booth managed, seeing Tony press a kiss to Brennan's lips. He saw Brennan's free hand curl around Tony's neck and tore himself away from the sight.

'Nice boy that Tony. Knows what he wants and doesn't settle.'

'There something you want to say to me Max?' Booth questioned. Max fixed a hard, steely glare upon Booth's face.

'Temperance has been through enough all these years, and most of it has been my fault. But…I never thought I'd have to say that I hope all the hurt you've put my daughter through is worth what you have now Booth. I trusted you to keep my baby girl safe. Now I want you to make sure she's safe from you.'

Booth's mouth felt dry at Max's words.

'I would never intentionally hurt Bones,' Booth rasped, the pain in his shoulder throbbing viciously in response.

'Sometimes it's the things we don't intend to do that hurt the ones we love the most,' Max advised, hoisting the duffle beside him onto his shoulder.

'You've done a lot for this family Booth, and for that I'll always be grateful for. You have given me back my son, my daughter. But don't think for a second that I won't knock you flat on your ass if I _ever _see my daughter cry again.'

Booth's breath caught in his throat and he could only nod mutely in response. The tinkling of the bell brought their attention to a glowing Brennan, who held the shell Tony had given her gently between her regal hands.

'Look, Dad. Tony got this for me,' she breathed out, thumb caressing the smooth curve of the shell reverently. The name Temperance was painted in blue, scrawled messily but indelibly into the marbled surface like some kind of mark. 'Though I believe he was rather offended when I mentioned this would make a great paperweight…'

Max chuckled and Booth barely let his lips curve.

'Hey Max,' Tony greeted the older man with the kind of familiarity that an old friend would, shaking the hand offered briskly. 'You ready to go?'

Brennan cut her gaze back and forth between Booth and her father, brow furrowing.

'Thanks again for the lift son,' the endearment rolled off Max's tongue and Booth realized he hadn't been gifted that same term, one that Max had used often in his presence before. That feeling in his gut intensified.

'Tempe told me what happened. Good to see your still here,' Tony told Booth stiffly, as if he wasn't quite sure how to act around the FBI agent. Booth recalled the easy way Tony had tucked Brennan under his arm, how his voice had been husky and intimate after the Science Dude taping.

'Thanks,' Booth retorted, a bit shortly.

'Are you sure-'

'You guys go on,' Booth waved Brennan's words off, 'Hannah will be here soon.' The lie came through his lips effortlessly and while before Brennan would have been able to pick up on it, now she looked half-relieved at his statement.

'I'll see you tomorrow then,' she said before giving him an awkward wave. No guy hug, not even a clasp of the hand.

'Nice seeing you,' Tony mumbled half-heartedly and Max gave him another hard pat on the back. Booth watched them go, all three side by side, the way Brennan laughed easily and the way she let Tony place his palm against the small of her back.

_That could have been you._

Booth took a long sip of the straight black he had ordered, the acrid aftertaste biting inside.

_That could have been you._

He placed the cup down, heard the cheap china rattle against the saucer.

_But it isn't because you made sure it wouldn't be._


End file.
